


The Haunt of Redemption

by ReclessAbandon



Category: Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Dark Side Cal Kestis, Dark Side Sith Inquisitor, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Holocron, Inquisitor Cal Kestis, Jedi, Jedi Temple (Star Wars), Original planet, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Redemption, Redemption Arc Cal Kestis, Sequel, Sith Inquisitor - Freeform, The Dark Side of the Force, inquisitor - Freeform, redemption arc, sequel fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23885548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReclessAbandon/pseuds/ReclessAbandon
Summary: It has been months since your last encounter with Cal, at that time he was a fledgling Inquisitor. In an ironic twist of fate, you cross paths and blades with him once again, and he’s keen on turning you into an Inquisitor as well—unless you bring him back to the light first.
Relationships: Cal Kestis/Reader
Comments: 36
Kudos: 84





	1. The Little Heartache That Went With It

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel of "A Path I Can't Follow"

**_CAL’S DESCENT, THE SAME DAY_ **

Barely escaping the TIE fighters that deployed from the command ship that’s standing by the orbit of Koboth, the Mantis had masked its trail as it jumped into hyperspace.

Greez had punched the coordinates back to Bogano.

Aside from becoming an easy target, for one thing, it has become your home—especially for you and Cal. You only had the chance to collect all of the consumables stored in the abode and workshop before leaving the planet for an indefinite time. Your nap was short-lived, you were restless even if Cere had told you to ease up in your room, so you quickly rejoined them in the cockpit.

“Sit tight, we’re landing,” said the captain, suddenly there was a firm tone in his voice but your ignored it.

“Bogano?” a puzzled look painted all over your face. “Won’t the Inquisitors find us here?”

“I figured we make a pit stop first to gather some supplies,” Cere replied.

“I take it we won’t be back here for a while, huh?”

Cere’s eyes did the talking. You didn’t need her to say the word. For you, she was somewhat easy to read.

The Mantis bounced on its landing gears’ suspensions, you bring your arm close to BD-1 for him to crawl on and then perch on you before springing out of the co-pilot seat and then stride to the door. Cere stood up from her seat and caught up.

“Listen to me, [y/n]. Gather what you can and then head straight back to the ship, do you understand?”

“Way ahead of you,”

“She means it, kid, I’m serious too!” Greez cuts in from the cockpit. “The ship is still blowing off steam from that jump into hyperspace and I don’t wanna stress the compressor and be caught like a sitting duck—by the Empire no less!”

You exit the ship and sprinted towards the small mesa. Along the way, you made a mental list of what supplies to get and where you’ve kept them.

“Supplies, food, tools. Abode, kitchen, workshop,” you repeated these words as you ran across the plains.

With your speed and momentum, you were able to make the jump to the high ground, when you pulled yourself up you were already at the mesa where the abode is. You were almost too afraid to enter.

Deep breaths. You put one foot in front of the other and the abode was in sight. You slid down the rope and the thick metal grate made a clanging sound at the impact of your boots.

You snatched a bag and ran to the kitchen, ransacking your own pantry and cupboards for food rations that you have stored, thinking that Greez will have better use for them. Supplies and consumables found in the workbench area were stuffed in a separate backpack.

“Where is it? Oh!” you mutter to yourself. “The room!

At first, you were greatly hesitant in setting foot into _your_ bedroom. Your hands pawed the air, searching for the power switch in the dark. One big, deep breath.

_Click._

Lights hummed as they flickered into life—the room lights, the light from the control panels and the screens, all of it. The clutter on the personal workbench remained undisturbed, exactly the way you left it before you left for Magyon. You couldn’t help but look around, every inch and corner of the house has something to do with him.

You rummaged the cabinets and chests for supplies and tools that will be useful in the long run. You walked and went to every part of the room, searching for things in your personal hiding spots—both yours and Cal’s—that may have something of use.

Gathering stuff while having so many things running in your mind right now worked you up. You sat on the end of the bed to take a breather. You fiddled your fingers while catching your breath and calming yourself down.

“Boo…?”

“Oh, BD…” you sighed sadly. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

The little droid trilled a long and low tone, but quickly jerked his head up as if coming up with an idea. He positioned himself straight and upfront, back turned to you, and a click came from him.

Blue light fizzled into existence, a distorted voice garbled along with it as the resolution cleared out on its own. You assumed BD-1 was playing another saved recording of Cordova. Your heart skipped a beat when the droid projected something else.

_“Are you getting this, BD? Yeah…? Okay. So… How do I start?”_

“Cal?” you shifted in your seat.

_“Wow… Heh. This is harder than I thought.”_

The projection paced around, shoulders shifting until they were comfortable, trying to stand properly still as he spoke.

 _“Hey, [y/n]. I guess BD-1 finally showed you this recording. You never knew about it because it was something I kept from you and I have my reason—most of the time, I just wished it was part of a pleasant surprise.”_ The tone of Cal’s voice went from casually sweet to somber. _“I’ve made this recording long ago; although, by the time BD will have shown this to you, I don’t have any idea how long time has passed since then.”_

You stood up from the bed, your height level with the hologram projection of Cal.

_“I guess this is the part that I say my reason for storing this recording, huh? Of course, you’d want to know now. I don’t blame you though—you’ve got every right to know.”_

Cal’s posture started to feel more natural and laidback, doing his habitual stance whenever he’s relaxed. You take one step close to the hologram. Your eyes have begun to sting as you tried to resist tearing up.

 _“This… has always been in my mind lately. I couldn’t help but think of how much I love you, how much I want to protect you and keep you safe. Then at night, I always wonder if there will come a time where…”_ Cal trailed off and shakily sucked in air, even in his hologram form you could see the distraught in his eyes.

_“Where there’ll be a time when something happens to me and I won’t be there for you, to have your back like I always promised, even if it means keeping you safe in return… If that ever happens, I’m so sorry, my love. My love…”_

You take another step closer until the space between you was a few, mere inches. Tears finally fell down your cheeks, you could no longer repress them. Your heart ached as he spilled out the words with the distraught in his eyes.

 _“I’m asking you to not think of this message as a goodbye. No, this is not farewell. The universe and the Force will have to do better to get rid of me from you…”_ Cal chuckled in his projection, finally seeing that sweet and familiar smile of his.

You bring your hands up to his cheeks. It was wishful thinking, but your eyes kept on staring at Cal’s eyes, hoping that he would gaze back at you tenderly and fondly. But to no avail, your slight desperation had blinded you from the fact that the boy before you is only a hologram projection. Your eyes stung as they grew puffy from crying and the tears have blurred your vision.

“ _I think it’s much more comforting for both of us to look at this as a reminder. Before you sleep at night, I hope this message reminds me of you; please, darling, think of me, think of how much I love you and always will. Because I’ll do the same for you—not a day will pass by without having the thought of you burned in my mind and in my heart. My love, my baby, my sweet sonnet, I love you so much. Someday, hopefully soon, we’ll be together again. We always find our way to each other, don’t we?”_

Cal’s lips curled upwards in the projection, flashing his casual yet sweetest smile, along with the fond gaze that you’ve been wanting to see. His last words made your heart bleed. The knuckles on the back of your hand caressed nothing but thin air, the blue hologram fizzled as your fingertips passed through. The dried-up tears have stained your cheeks while more fell from your eyes. Your knees were still weak and you melted to the floor.

“Oh, BD…” you sobbed. “Come here.”

You beckoned him with open arms. He switched off the projection and leapt into your embrace.

“Since when have _you_ been keeping secrets from me, little guy?” you managed a playful tone.

BD-1 whistled and chirped. You chuckled while cuddling him. Eventually regaining your bearings by taking another breather from all the sobbing.

“Don’t worry, BD, we’ll bring him home soon. You’ll see,”

The little droid trilled a string of notes agreeably, sensing your resolve and the strength of your willful spirit returning to you. You wiped your eyes and take one last look in the abode before shutting all of the power down—leaving it the way it was before you and Cal set foot into this place.

You hurriedly went back to packing and then ran to the workshop through a shortcut. Going back out in the mesa, you carefully dropped to the ledge where the ziplines are. The blast door startled the Boglings lounging about outside and scurried back to their burrows as you wall-ran across the gap until you got to the workshop’s door. You picked up whatever leftover parts that you might need for your lightsaber or any gadget that might come in handy.

“Cere, I’m done. I’m heading back there now,”

“Alright, we’ll be waiting,”

You slung both bags on your body—a sling bag filled with food rations and ingredients, and then a backpack filled with parts and supplies—and effortlessly traversed the plains until you met with Cere waiting for you outside the Mantis.

“Ready?”

“Yep,”

“Take one last look, [y/n], we won’t be here for a while.”

You and Cere glance over your shoulders and watched the afternoon sun shine behind the spire of the Bogano vault. Your eyes panned across the expanse of the planet. You’ll definitely miss everything about this planet, especially the things more than the eye can see—waking up to the sound of pots clattering in the abode’s kitchen, watching the sunrise while sitting at the edge of the mesa, the whistling of the wind in the canyon at the Great Divide.

“We’ll come back. I’m sure of it,” you said so certainly and confidently to Cere.

Not knowing how to react to that, Cere just simply watched you enter the ship and then take one last look of Cordova’s secret planet sanctuary before getting into the ship herself.

Greez was already prepping the ship for takeoff, typing the coordinates of their next destination in a pattern of button presses on the keypad. After stashing the bags in their rightful places, you joined the crew in the cockpit and saw the coordinates copied onto your screen in the co-pilot’s seat.

This planet is new to you but apparently Greez knows about it. Anything goes, you thought. And then the Lateron captain cranked the lever and left Bogano.


	2. A New Home

**_7 MONTHS LATER_ **

Cameegon, a lush green planet in the Outer Rim. On the outside, it was a near-twin to Kashyyyk, with the large continental land masses patching the surface; when in the planet, evergreen valleys and lakes adorned the landscape. If tranquility was a planet, then it would be Cameegon.

This was home away from home.

Lying in the heart of the valley is Hoga, a major settlement where a diverse crowd gathers—it was a jack-of-all-trades kind of town, shop traders and market stall vendors were the faces of the bustle, people come and go for various reasons. It was more of a swindler’s paradise than a spot of honest work, thus one had to be street-smart. One is more likely to have more enemies than friends in this kind of place.

Knowing that you have to get by, you bagged a job as a mechanic in the Yewa Docking Bay & Inn. The pay wasn’t high, neither was it low—it was just enough for you to get through the days, if the boss saw you’ve worked hard enough, she’d sneak in an extra for you which could stretch until the end of the week.

To you, it was a big yet necessary adjustment. The first few days were difficult. Luckily, it wasn’t a job too unforgiving to rob you of your time to keep up with lightsaber training.

“[y/n]! Hey, [y/n]!” a woman hollered at you while working on a freighter’s busted communications satellite.

You paused from your work and peeked over the edge of the freighter.

“Yeah, boss?!”

“Come on down there! It’s lunch time already! You ain’t hungry?”

“I’ll eat once I recalibrate this old thing, shouldn’t take long!”

She replied to you indistinctly before walking away back into her office booth—which is basically a command and surveillance center for all the docks.

You slipped back into the ship’s interior through the roof hatch and went to the cockpit; you carefully examined the screens on the dashboard, hoping for an indication that your tinkering worked. You played around with the communications, hoping that you would pick up a frequency with your handheld tester—after a minute of gurgling, white noise, the blip on your little device flickered green.

“Hear that, BD?”

“Woop!”

“Yeah, piece o’ cake!”

It was a small victory that you celebrated with a private smile. Nowadays, most of your smiles are short-lived as memories, voices or images coming flooding into your mind—they come and go every once in a while, though they were numbing than comforting.

“Alright, Boss Lora, signals are clear for this old thing!” you announced, joining the boss for lunch in the control booth.

“Well, that was quick—though I’m not really surprised, since this ain’t the first time,” Lora chuckled as she scooped a spoonful of her food. “Y’know, I never really asked you where you learned all this—the mechanic thing.”

“Oh, I…” you trailed off, trying to find the right yet indirect words for your cover story. “I just had a good teacher, though he was just as old as me—he knew more things, better things.”

You took two consecutive bites of your food, hoping that Boss Lora would change the subject. A teenage girl comes walking into the booth, she arrived with a sweet smile on her face and two bowls of food occupying both of her hands.

“Hi Kaleen,” you greeted.

“Hi mom, [y/n], BD! I hope you two are hungry, there was some extra at the kitchen,”

“Oh, aren’t you just a darling!” her mother fawned and stretched her arms towards her daughter.

Kaleen stayed in the booth with the two of you, asking you how her cooking was, and you gave her nothing but compliments.

“Oh, I picked up some juice too!” the teenager hands over two steel bottles filled to the brim with Meiloorun Juice. “Papa said it’s on the house for you, [y/n]!”

“Aww, thanks Kaleen, give Dodree my thanks!”

“Sure will!”

“Are you sure these are extras or did you smuggle some ingredients from the inventory?” Lora jokingly asked.

The mother and daughter duo burst in laughter, even if you wanted to, you just can’t match up to their own cheerfulness. Kaleen asked you about the ship in the yard right outside the booth; ever since you came here working for their business, the teenager was fascinated with you and the work you do—even if she’s seen it once or twice a day for seven months.

“I guess it’s normal for teenagers to be curious,” you once said.

Kaleen easily warmed up to you on your first week, unlike her mother who was stingy at first—a sentiment which you similarly expressed, but only in your head—but was impressed with your handiwork, eventually softening up to you after your first month working there and showing you kindness in the form of salary bonuses.

The girl turned her attention to the little droid perched on your shoulder. She treated the little droid kindly—playing with him and giving him new things to scan about, then he would project the data entry in a hologram for the girl who was beyond amused with the droid and the things she learned from little BD-1.

“Someday, I hope I get a droid as cool as BD-1!” Kaleen chirped.

At the end of the day, the owner of the ship was satisfied with your handiwork and tipped you. You bid goodbye to Lora and Kaleen. You pocketed today’s pay along with the tip, donned your poncho and hood as you exited the docking bay.

It was nearly sunset and you made your way through the streets still riddled with cantina patrons and half-drunk traders. You kept your head low until the rim of your cowl obscured the top half of your face.

“Oh shoot!” you hissed at the sight of Stormtroopers standing near the parking row where you’ve kept your speeder.

 _Can’t back out now, my speeder’s JUST there!_ You coaxed yourself to take a deep breath, relax, and look unassuming as possible—something you’ve taught yourself since you got here and found that there were Stormtroopers even in this planet too.

You anticipated for the moment where they’ll have their backs turned or when they’ll be preoccupied speaking to a citizen. Some people still perceived them as a police force, reporting petty crimes and all, but you already knew that this town doesn’t have long until the Empire comes charging on such short notice.

“Okay, [y/n], relax,” you mutter under your breath.

You pulled down your riding goggles first and then put on your headgear as soon as you took off your hood. You stood with your back turned to the troopers by your speeder bike—a secondhand BARC model that you modified and repainted into black. Prior to its purchase, it has obviously seen better days in the Republic era. It was also better than going all the way from Hoga and back by foot.

“And the cycle continues,” you muttered to yourself. The engine of the speeder sputtered and you sped through the streets and out of the town, returning to the Mantis just in time for supper.

From half a mile away, you could smell the dinner that Greez was cooking and throttled the speeder forward. Parking it just under the Mantis’s wing, you hopped off and sprinted to the door.

“Oh, [y/n], just in time,”

“Hey Cere,” you greeted back. “Greez, get any better and I’ll be smelling your food all the way from Hoga!”

Greez chuckled, obviously flattered, “Hey, that’s a good challenge! Heck, I might even whip something up so that the folks at Bozam Village could whiff!”

“How’s work today, [y/n]?”

“Same old same old, Merrin, got tipped though,”

“Oh? For your mechanical work?”

“Uh-huh!”

“You always were the tinkerer,” she compliments.

Dinner was served and the conversation carried on.

The ambience in the Mantis was warm—yet it was a different kind of warm—not a single person in the ship could ever pretend like everything is normal after all these months. In a certain point of view, the crew was a broken family—one had gone astray and everyone clung onto the hope that Cal would return. It was sort of like moving on, but in a way that you could not explain, and yet they all understood.

“I think I’ll go to Bozam Village sometime this week,” you initiated.

“As long as you’re safe and you’re careful in every step of the way, [y/n], we don’t know when the Empire _or_ Inquisitors will strike,” said Cere, she had been learning to be more open with the tone of her voice—especially if she always spoke in concern regarding to anybody in the crew.

“I’m fine, I spotted some Stormtroopers this morning but I was far from them. I doubt they’ll get to the village, it’s so secluded anyway,”

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Cere replied, her pessimism disguised as caution.

That night, you put your lightsaber away on the workbench right next to Cal’s—which has been lying dormant on that table for a while now. You may not have his Psychometry, but you can still feel the emotions it emits without even touching it.

 _Is it still the same—the feelings, I mean? Have they dulled? Have they changed?_ You pondered on these questions while staring at the shiny hilt.

Hesitation and curiosity constantly fought within you whenever you stand in front of the table. The last time you held it was last month, as a result, the anger imprinted on it was so strong it had rendered you sleepless. The rage Cal had demonstrated in your last duel in Koboth was the most dominant emotion, it nearly outweighed the emotions— _his­_ emotions—of Light.

“Not today, I want to sleep,” you whispered, unsure to whom you’re addressing it to—yourself or to Cal in your imagination.

Regardless, you retired to bed for tonight. BD-1 nestled on the folded poncho that rests beside your tummy.

“Good night, BD,”

“Boo-wooo…”

You clutch on the poncho, crumpling it in your grip, “Good night, Cal.”

The dreams were always hazy. It was difficult to distinguish, yet they felt surreal. You warp from one place to another, regardless if it was familiar in the present or in the distant past; the voices were like the ones back in the temple in Magyon, hollow and rambling, desperate to be heard and heeded.

An image of Cal dressed in Inquisitor garments was a constant appearance in your dreams. Slowly approaching you in a threatening stride. As he got closer to you, the more terrified and frozen you stood—even if it was just a dream—and whenever he extends his hand, you can’t tell whether he was trying to Force-Choke you or offer his hand.

By now, that kind of dream should be something you’d be used to—but it always made you wake up in a cold sweat. It seemed that waking up was the only way to get out of it.

Everyone was asleep in their own quarters, you stepped out of yours. The hallikset lying on the table caught your eye, you took it and rested it on your lap as you sat down on the couch, blindly strumming a few chords here and there—the ones that you remembered learning from Cal and Cere altogether.

Faint footsteps approached the lounge—it was Cere. She was about to fix herself a glass of water until she spotted you playing the hallikset.

“Oh,” you say as you find Cere standing by the end of the stairs. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No,” she sits down next to you. “Is it the—”

Without even letting her finish her question, you said yes, still absentmindedly strumming the instrument as you spoke. You avoid her eyes, afraid that she will immediately read what you’re thinking—but this isn’t new, this isn’t the first time it’s happened.

“I thought I’d learn how to repress them—I mean the dreams. It just keeps coming back, it’s always the same thing I see at night. Even in meditation, they just don’t go away…”

“It takes time for the feelings to subside; you either live with it peacefully or just bottle it up until it just overflows in you, making it harder for you to control it. Piece of advice: it’s healthier to choose the first one,”

She finds that expression in your face again: blank stare but your mind is obviously filled with thoughts. She felt the loneliness that plagued you—the root of your nightmares and restless nights. You weren’t really good at hiding your emotions, if ever, you could only mask them for a time until you’re vulnerable enough to show it.

“You miss him, I understand— _we_ understand, we miss him too,” Cere continued on. “But, let me ask you this: do you _really_ think he has gotten astray?”

A few seconds of reflection was all that you needed; you pondered over the answer that echoed in your heart, Cere noticed the shifting of your eyes.

“I think in my heart…” you turn to the woman for the first time. “No, I don’t believe he’s really gone.”

“Then, there _is_ still hope,”

You managed a small smile and continued to strum. Cere requested a song from you—it didn’t need to be grand, she just wanted to see how much you’ve learned and retained all those music lessons between her teaching and Cal’s.

The moment was peaceful yet somber. The notes that came out of your strumming were melancholic but it was lulling. Perhaps you couldn’t help your emotions anymore that it even exudes from other objects. You stayed up for a few more hours until the soft melodies totally lulled you to sleep in the middle of strumming and you ended up sleeping on the couch.


	3. Runt of the Litter

Koboth remained the unforgiving wasteland that it was.

The Eleventh Brother, the Fortress’s new habitant, was a force that nobody had seen coming.

In the first week since he came in, Cal had already established his authority in the stronghold; it wasn’t the imposing uniform and weapon, nor was it his blank yet steady expression.

It had something to do with his own powers.

Like most of the Inquisitors, he is a Force-sensitive. For someone his age, he was cunning and powerful—one would dare say, even just in their head, that he was above from the other Inquisitors. As accomplished as he might be—he was still the odd one out, the loner, the quiet one. The late Second Sister might have been his equal in terms of combat skill, caliber of Force abilities, and the mental prowess.

“Shame that they put him in a lower rank, I thought he was the new favorite,” the Eighth Sister scoffed one time to the other Inquisitors when he was recently anointed into his rank.

“Not surprised,” the Seventh Sister concurred in the conversation she shared with her fellow Mirialan. “That only meant he still has to prove himself if he wants to climb higher.”

Rarely a time did the other Inquisitors ever approached him, not even for an opinion or insight in their plans, under the impression that he’s too good for them or the other way around. They always spoke of him from a distance or behind his back. Either way, he wouldn’t have minded.

Instead, Cal whiled away his time in the dojo. As a matter of fact, it was the only thing he did out of his own volition—the conferences were compulsory. His only audience? A couple of Stormtroopers assigned to watch over from the control room.

“Wow, he’s _really_ into this whole practice thing,” A Stormtrooper blurted to his comrade. “That’s all he’s ever done since he got here!”

“Yeah, this is the _third_ time this week he’s gone here. I think he’s the only one who actually uses this place—except for the Purge guys.”

They watched as they remained in their post. For every Purge Trooper that came walking out of the holding cells in the dojo, the young Inquisitor wouldn’t make them last long in the duel. The longest he’s gone against with is a pair of them—an electrohammer wielder and a staff wielder. The boy made use of the movable grates, relocating them using the Force, and utilizing them to amplify his attacks.

When the staff-wielding Purge Trooper split his weapon in half, it didn’t make much of a difference as the young Eleventh Brother deflected his attack with his own split saber _while_ deflecting the electrohammer with the other blade.

“Gotta admit that was impressive,” the guard bantered and his co-worker agreed with a weak “Yeah.”

The Eleventh Brother pulled away from both opponents, inflicted Slow on the brute and sent a flurry of attacks to the dual-wielder for the time being. The Purge Trooper’s jaw met Cal’s elbow, causing him to drop his weapons—which Cal stole one of them and used it on its owner, sending a wild shock into the body until the opponent fumbled and was at the mercy of the boy Inquisitor. When that was finished, Cal returned his attention to the electrohammer Purge Trooper, disarmed the larger fighter by slashing across his shin guards until his knees fell to the ground.

With that, Cal emerged the victor—after five waves of opponents—and the two Purge Troopers yielded for today. They quickly regained their composure, stretching their shoulders and collecting their weapons.

“Someday, I’ll take him down in spar practice,” the duel-wielding Purge Trooper mumbled.

“Hah, not unless he kills you in the process first!”

Today, the Stormtroopers had just witnessed a true demonstration of Cal’s raw power.

That scene had further cemented their fear of the boy Inquisitor.

Cal exited the dojo and made his way to his bedchambers. The officers that were in his general direction—regardless of rank, whether it’s an admiral or a cadet—avoided eye contact from him, but some looked at him with a curious or trivial look, as if admiring how could such a young man have that much influence without even speaking much. Some even likened him to Darth Vader, but it was a stretch.

Aside from the dojo, his bedchamber was his primary sanctuary.

“Home sweet home,” he muttered to himself as he removed his mask.

By rote, he retreated to the bathroom to wash off the grime that had gathered on his face and body, he wets his hair and stubble for good measure. Even after the course of seven months, he still hasn’t gotten used to his overall appearance, especially the redness faint dark tint on his hair even if he’s never altered anything on his body; a faint pink shade ran along the bottom rims of his eyes retells the training he’s endured, as well as the lonesomeness in the solace of his bedroom.

If he isn’t fighting in the dojo or attending those mandatory meetings, Cal spent his time researching on the holotable in his room. Reports from Stormtroopers and hired spies of your whereabouts are immediately transmitted to him, although the pickings were very slim, he was almost impressed by how elusive you and the crew were.

“Now, where have you run off to?” he mumbled, particularly to the still holographic image of you projected in his holotable.

Eventually, he came to a standstill with his own research, hoping to require more reports from the Stormtroopers and spies in every possible planet you may have gone to—Takodana, Kashyyyk, Zeffo, even Dathomir was an option no matter how much you disliked it as Cal recalled.

“Nothing… just nothing,” he sighed in defeated.

He combed back his hair with his fingers as he steered away from his holotable after slamming the off switch. He leaned against the wall of glass that gave him the view of the barren horizon that stretched beyond the lava rivers. His forehead thumped against the glass as he took deep breaths.

Cal didn’t want to admit it, even if hard training has been ingrained into his mind and body for seven months now, he still feels lost in all of this. The Eighth Sister shrugged it off as the same feeling as being the newcomer of the town—which is exactly just that. The excelled in all aspects of the training, further improving the training he’s received under Jaro Tapal, impressed—and intimidated—the ranking officers present in the main command center with his unconventional yet effective strategies, and silently climbing his way through the ranks.

In the midst of the silence—which he enjoyed—he hoped that there would be something to come up any moment… but there was none.

The viewscreen fixed upon his wall suddenly fizzled to life, he paid attention to the admiral seen on the other end of the call.

“Admiral,” Cal acknowledged.

“Eleventh Brother, the Grand Inquisitor will be transmitting a message. Shall I relay it to you?”

“Yes, Admiral.”

“Very good, my lord.”

The call rippled and then faded out. Cal donned his Inquisitor outfit with an urgency and pressed the button to bring his holotable back to life. Shortly after, the projection of the Grand Inquisitor’s bust hovered and occupied the center space of the holotable, it was large enough to prompt Cal to step back a few paces just so he wouldn’t hurt his neck.

“I hope you haven’t gotten dry on the girl’s trail, Eleventh Brother,” the Grand Inquisitor hummed.

“It won’t be long until we find the girl and her treasonous crew, Grand Inquisitor,”

“Remember your true objective here, Eleventh Brother, the precious cargo that they have with them is what you should set your sights on. The girl is merely collateral,” the Grand Inquisitor’s projection cracked static in between words but then continued. “If she _does_ prove to be powerful like you say, then we will bring her to our ranks. Only then will she realize the magnitude that the Dark Side could factor in her powers.”

“Never have I doubted that insight, Grand Inquisitor,”

“Very good. I expect many a great things from you, my boy.”

Without the formal conclusion, the Grand Inquisitor switched off his transmission and his hologram crackled away into the air.

The pressure is on, but Cal didn’t dwell too much as it would have completely compromised his focus. The idea of taking you in, turning you into an Inquisitor, constantly ran in the back of his head—it was the outcome that he hopes for. He wanted to meditate—he longed for that dark tranquility—but can’t seem to find the peace that will help him latch on to connecting with the Force. The activity has become staler for him nowadays, if he did try, it went back to the exact same as he was before: he loses control while under the trance.

Cal decided it would be a good idea to take a walk. He ended up observing the assembly procedure of the facility from a reasonable distance on a platform. The whole factory worked in a harmony in piecing together the parts: heavy metal banged on the thick conveyor belts, sparks spewed out from the joints of the machines, until the machines have created the finished products—ship parts that will still undergo a second stage of assembly, power cores that glowed bright orange as it came fresh from the manufacturer.

Much later, he was joined by the Fourth Brother. A smug bastard, as Cal always thought.

“I see machines fascinate you,”

Cal rolled his eyes and had no choice but to wallow in this banter, “I grew up around them.”

“Ah yes, I recall the Second Sister calling you something of a sort,” the Fourth Brother, Ezir, pondered. He unnecessarily snapped his fingers as if trying to recall the word.

“A scrapper.” The boy grumbled.

“Ah! That’s the one,” he sniggered and continued to watch with the Eleventh Brother. “Look at that one, over there. Isn’t that worker pretty? Looking past that oil and grime on her face, I wager she would look divine.”

The Eleventh Brother didn’t comment on that, he kept silent and continued observing the manufacturing.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forget that you already have the love of your life! Though she’s in one side of the galaxy, and you absolutely have no idea where she is,” Ezir scoffed. “I saw her once that time in Magyon. I have to say, she _is_ rather beautiful. How many men do you think have thrown themselves over to—”

While keeping cool, Ezir struggled on his next words. He tugged his collar a bit, coughed, gulped, and cleared his throat. The faint squeak of a glove prompted him to turn to Cal and noticed that his hand was positioned to a grapple, then he turned the Fourth Brother to look at him in the eye.

The boy Inquisitor’s face creased, mouth curled to a snarl, and a fiery rage burned behind his clear, blank, quiet eyes.

“String your words carefully, Fourth, they’re not always as smooth as you think they are.”

The Fourth Brother gurgled in his own spit, struggling to speak a single word back at the Eleventh Brother. He looked almost pitiful in Cal’s eyes, it doubled when he yielded, tapping his chest—crumpling his dress shirt in the process—until his tormentor released his grip.

“Bastard,” Cal scoffed as he walked out on Ezir and left the observation platform.


	4. Incoming!

His holotable beeped, signaling an incoming message.

“Admiral?” he greeted when he answered the call.

“Sir, the transport containing the suspect has arrived. Shall I call an escort for you?”

“No need. I’ll be on my way.”

“Very good, sir. Transmission out.”

He strode through the hallways, Stormtroopers stiffened their backs until they’re erect at the presence of the Eleventh Brother, commanding officers curtly saluted when he passed them by, and he blatantly ignored the Fifth Brother and Eighth Sister in his periphery.

He arrived at the interrogation block and entered the cell where they’re keeping the captive.

It was Boss Lora.

Cal stood by the Stormtrooper and demanded the details.

“Lora Argul, proprietor of the Yewa Docking Bay & Inn,”

“And where is this docking bay located?”

The Stormtrooper glanced at his datapad, “In Hoga, sir. That’s in Cameegon,”

Cal repeated the planet’s name in a questioning tone.

“A temperate planet in the Daoro System, Jama Sector,”

“Daoro? Then it’s an Outer Rim planet,” the young Inquisitor pointed out, he stepped closer to the adult woman strapped to the interrogation machine. “Don’t bother struggling, it’s not like we’re going to set you free anytime soon.”

“Please, I don’t have anything to do with you! I’m just a business owner!”

“Oh, I know,” Cal cooed emotionlessly. “But I think you know something that _I_ need. You might know somebody I’m looking for.”

“I don’t know anybody! My customers come and go, I only have my family!”

Lora tirelessly pleaded to Cal—it’s the same words in different order, but the same idea all in all. The young Inquisitor watched the prisoner wriggle in the torture machine, begging without a pause, until she succumbed to her tears.

Cal walked closer to Lora, a colorful woven bracelet stood out from the drab of her dark brown work clothes. He reaches for the bracelet and now his Force ability comes in play.

_“Look what I made you, Mama!”_

_“Oh, how beautiful! Thank you, sweetheart!”_

_“Here, I’ll help you wear it. Do you like it?”_

_“I love it! I’ll always wear it so everyone can see.”_

He saw the bright-eyed girl that is her daughter. The warmth of the child’s love radiated all over this woman’s being. His Psychometry allowed him to “borrow” such emotions, thoughts, and images for a period of time; he has done so to his multiple captives on their various campaigns ever since he was induced into the Inquisitorius.

 _Yes,_ he thought as he found her weakness.

“You have a very kind daughter. Kaleen, isn’t it?”

“How did you know her name?!” Lora roared.

She knew she never said anything, she only thought of her child when Cal started to enter her mind using his powers. It was something she has never seen or experienced before—and it terrified her. The wild, out-of-pace beating of her heart throbbed through her chest, any moment now she might feel it burst through.

“Oh, I should remember to apologize to your daughter _personally_. The little brawl in your cantina must have given her a big scare—with what her papa unconscious and her mother taken away right in front of her very eyes. Who knows what that little girl is thinking right now.”

Lora tugged herself from her restraints as far as she could until she’s eye-to-eye with Cal.

“You do so much as touch the tip of a hair strand from my daughter, I _swear_ I _will_ kill you!”

Cal smirked albeit concealed by his mask, satisfied that he had provoked the woman, he kept the bait hanging right in front of her until she tells him what they want to hear.

He consciously avoided the question, “ _You_ are going to tell me where you’ve seen the fugitives.”

“What fugitives?”

“You will tell me,” the smirk seemingly lost its amusement, Cal stepped closer and clutched the woman by the wrist as he demanded. “Where _she_ is.”

At that exact moment, Lora suddenly felt like someone or something was tearing her brain open while fully conscious—the pain was excruciating, albeit the absence of the high-voltage shocks of the actual machine; Cal’s grip grew tighter, nearly barring the circulation to her hand, the next thing in Lora’s mind was you. She never intended to think or speak of you in front of this fearsome, young man—to her, _it just happened_.

 _There…!_ Cal celebrated sooner than he could wait.

The memory that played was your first time in the docking bay, her very first interaction with you, Lora still had that stingy tone when speaking to you. The image of you examining the ship she asked you to fix as an entrance trial and smiling back at her with a smug confidence played behind Cal’s eyes.

_“Well now, I gotta say your work is impressive, kid!”_

_“When do I start, boss?”_

There.

Your smile. Your laugh.

Even the faintest melody of your laugh came through for him.

For one, his heart skipped a beat—he saw the length of your hair has changed but your smile remained the same.

“Please…! Enough!” Lora sputtered out crying.

Cal jerked his hand away and turned around abruptly.

“Prepare my ship!” the boy Inquisitor commanded.

“Right away, sir!” a lower-ranking officer promptly replied and went ahead for the task.

“Bu-But, sir,” the admiral stuttered, hoping that it doesn’t offend the Eleventh Brother to stop him in his tracks. “What about the prisoner?”

“I leave it to you then, Admiral.”

The Eleventh Brother marched to the hangar, flanking him were two TIE pilots. Upon his arrival, the technicians have just finished recalibrating the TIE Fighters as well as his ship: a TIE Interceptor that he personally modified to his liking. The technician unclamped the docking boot of the Interceptor while his co-workers did the same for the two other Fighters.

“I want transports each carrying assault units and a squad of fighters deployed en route to Cameegon with me.”

“Yes sir, understood!” the attending officer’s heels clicked and marched to the hangar’s command center with an urgency.

The young Inquisitor climbed into the cockpit, the glass dome slid shut with the touch of a button. His fingers follow an invisible yet learned pattern of switches and buttons. There was an indescribable feeling that he cannot pinpoint with a single word, perhaps the closest being “elated.”

The TIEs’ engines hummed in a collective baritone, lights on the screen flickered to life, the ships hovered and then zoomed past the ray shield of the hangar.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in Cameegon, you’ve been training in the forest for the rest of your day-off. You were out of breath, but the clean air from the trees refreshed your lungs as you inhaled and then exhaled. This expansive stretch of land has become your own haven—it’s where you mostly do your Jedi training and meditation, it took a long while for you to get used to doing them alone.

BD-1 may have kept you company while you spend your time in the woods, but it was different having someone _actually_ with you, though you didn’t want to offend the little one so you always kept him close to you.

“Alright, BD, toss me another!”

The little white droid—perched upon a tree branch a few paces in front of you—trilled and threw the whole, rotten fruit in its claw—that you’ve installed yourself some time ago—and you went charging towards it; when the distance was enough, your heels sprang from the carpet of leaves and you somersaulted in the air, severing the target in half in the process and then landing back on the balls of your feet.

BD cheered for you in high-pitched whistles and song-like trills, followed by another string of conversational tones.

“Really? Should I have jumped a bit earlier?”

“Trill, chirp!”

“Hah, well, I really can’t tell if it’s by the second, little guy! Maybe I could borrow your scanners next time,” you joked.

The droid replied with a nervous trill, but you knew that he was only playing along.

“How’s the claw? You getting used to it or should I modify it some more?”

“Boo…” BD’s singular scope-like scanner examined the external appendage. “Woop!”

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do later,”

You beckoned the little droid to come to you, it activated its little turbojets on its feet and then willingly clambered on your shoulder. You continued on with your training, cutting down the training dummies that you made out of logs and leaves—your own regimen consisted of combining new moves with learned ones, last-minute improvisations if the need arises, and inventing more styles which is a hybrid of both old and new. You liked the adrenaline pumping in you when using the environment against your “enemies.”

Afterwards, you’re traversing the terrain, knowing the twists and turns of the forest like the back of your hand—a result worth of seven months’ progress. The path that you followed was one of your personal favorites—it was still an obstacle course, but you cut through and traversed it effortlessly. You decided to banter with your little droid friend while you trekked uphill.

“Hanging in there, BD?”

“Woop! Bee-woop.”

“Oh, you think so? I sounded like him for a moment there?”

You gave a weak chuckle in response to your exploration droid’s comment. Next, it gave out a somewhat apologetic tone, to your surprise you asked him why he was sounding like that.

“No need to apologize, buddy. It’s okay, don’t worry.”

“Woo!”

“Heh, you sure perk up quick!”

You’re almost to the top. The end of the hill’s path wasn’t the real summit—at least for you. You scaled the rock face of the waterfall nearby, there were enough rocks sticking on the wall to serve as handholds and footholds. It was a quick climb to get to the top of the waterfalls, only then, you’ve really seen the true expanse of Cameegon. The sight of the lower jungle and the river delta connecting to the sea was breathtaking.

 _How I wish you’re here to see it._ You muttered under your breath, dedicating it to Cal.

The entire view took off a heavy load from your chest. Simply look at it warranted a smile from you and a look of wonderment as if seeing it for the very first time.

“So pretty, isn’t it, BD?”

“Woo-boop!”

You patted the little droid’s head as the two of you gazed upon the majesty of the unspoiled part of the planet.

Over time, you’ve grown to love this planet because of the solitude that the trees have given you, it was your secondary comfort next to the company of your family, the Mantis crew.

Your sightseeing was disturbed when you heard machinery humming—the noise got louder by the second—and then three black ships come speeding past your view. Your eyebrows furrowed, something about them tells you that this is not your regular merchant convoy.

Their flight direction came from the east and they’re heading westward. Your eyes squinted in suspicion—you peered through your binoculars, zooming in by turning the knob resting by your thumb, until you got a better look of the silhouettes. Your lips parted open.

“Oh no…” you shuddered.

Without a second’s notice, you kicked the coil of rope sitting by the edge of the waterfall and rappelled down. You started bolting through the path in the forest, while running you try to reach Cere’s signal from the Mantis—but the wildlife was so dense that it interfered with the clarity of the signal.

“Cere! Can you hear me?! Cere, come in!”

A garbled radio frequency was your only response, but your feet kept running—it’s as if it was moving on its own—and made your way back to the ship.

The thought of the settlement suddenly entered your mind, but logically, the town is much farther from your training course in the forest—you’ll never make it in time even if you drive with your speeder’s top speed. In the middle of your combined panic and contemplation, you stumbled upon a detour and realized it too late.

You look around and find that there are no familiar landmarks around the area.

You’re lost and alone among the trees, accompanied by the chittering of unseen animals, and the apparent presence of the Empire… or the Inquisitors.


	5. The Past Has A New Face

A part of you wanted to calm down and subtly scan the area for enemies; the other wanted to just keep running until you find your way back to the ship.

The cacophony of animal sounds continued to sing through the woods. Your hearing hoped for rather than searching for any manmade sound—a twig snap, rustling of plants or leaves, anything. You moved on when there was nothing.

You attempted to reach Cere again, but there was nothing.

“Aw mother of fuc—!” you hissed, but were quickly cut off by the sound of the leaves crunching against the forest floor.

You sharply turned around, lightsaber ignited for nothing, but you continued to listen for it.

 _Come on, [y/n], forward._ You coaxed yourself in your mind.

In the distance, the sound of an explosion echoed and reached the forest where you stand now. You haven’t exactly prepared your heart and mind for the worst yet. In truth, you never prepared yourself for something like this to happen so soon.

The first thought that came into your mind was the Yewa Docking Bay.

“Lora… Kaleen…” you gasped.

Eventually, you found the main path again and followed it.

 _Yes!_ You thought. You’re so close now.

The fragment of hope that you held came and went when one of the TIE Fighters fired a shot in the forest—its blast was coming to the general direction of your obstacle course, presumably trying to flush you out of the woods and into a clearing. The shot was somehow close to your current location, dust blanketed the path ahead as well as the path where you came from.

“We can’t be trapped here, BD, we gotta go!”

The ominous snarl of a lightsaber caught you frozen in your tracks. The source was unseen but you can feel it close to you. Taking cover from behind the rock, your thumb searched for your saber’s switch as you prepared for a surprise attack.

You stifled your coughs, careful to not give yourself away to any potential enemies, as you fanned out of the haze that enveloped you.

Stalking the forest floor with a great deal of caution, you held your lightsaber defensively in front of you—the way you held it made you look like a scared Padawan learner in a basic defense stance. Your heightened sense of space caused you to turn around and find a dark silhouette standing in the other side of the wall of dust. You stood your ground, gripping your lightsaber well and positioning yourself in a stance.

When the smoke finally cleared, the figure revealed itself but only for a short second—you didn’t even get to catch a glimpse of whoever it was. The figure disappeared with the haze. Confused, your eyes frantically searched for the figure among the trees.

You feel someone standing _so close_ behind you, their lips could be felt within a mere inch from your ear.

“[y/n]…”

A twirled attack was easily deflected. As soon as your eyes registered the sight of the person in front of you, a whirlwind of emotions flooded you. Never have you ever felt so unsure what to feel that you wish it’s was just as easy as picking one emotion out as you please.

“Hello there, [y/n],”

You’re absolutely dumbfounded. Your breath shuddered as you attempted to suck in air, your eyes widened even with your sights narrowed at the person you thought you knew all this time. You were focused in examining his entire person—he was far beyond the Cal you last saw in Koboth, you barely recognize him with the dark gradient in his and his stubble.

Your heart skipped a beat.

On a tremendous level, you hate to admit that you find him appealing.

 _Well, fuck me sideways._ The expression of your own voice in your head was a combination of frustrated, smitten, _and_ growing hysteria.

Cal completely understood your predicament right now. He could sense your resolve fluctuate, the confusion and shock factored to it. He smirked at the discovery, there was a glint in his green eyes full of intent.

While in a convergence of blades, you afforded to take a good look at how much he’s changed before he pulls away for the next attack. You caught yourself before you fumbled to the floor, you cannot allow him to get the upper hand.

The last time you traded strikes was seven months ago, you wonder just how good he’s gotten all this time… and you were about to get a firsthand demonstration.

Based on his movements, he never strayed from the lightsaber form he’s been originally using ever since; there were hints of new attack patterns and techniques that you’ve never seen before. You wagered that they’re something that he picked up from his training.

“I see you’re still sharp. Impressive,” he purred.

You shifted your weight on your deflect and pushed him out so you could step away from him to regain your bearings. However, you’re not as sharp as he thought you were. The sudden reunion affected your emotions, then subsequently your movements in the duel; it was a struggle for you to conceal it from him, eluding him was a challenge in and of itself. If he managed to touch even a fiber of your clothes, his Psychometry will trigger and he’ll exploit whatever he’s harvested against you.

The shrubs, the trees, and the rocks became your allies all at once; aiding you in eluding this fearsome, youthful Inquisitor. There are some parts of the obstacle course that you may use to your advantage—such as the large, fallen logs whose bottom gaps are sizable enough for one to slide under, all the while concealing you as you make your escape or hideaway.

Cal followed suit, this was no different from the various environments he’s faced in his past campaigns. By the time he got to the other side of the log, you were nowhere to be found—little did he know that you were hiding among the tall grass, prowling closer as he stalked through the path.

“You didn’t really kill those people back in Magyon, you were manipulated!” your disembodied voice rang in the trees.

He looked around, searching for you while you continued to banter.

“Oh, is that what you tell yourself at night, when you go to sleep? Is it because you don’t want to face the reality now?”

Like a predator, you come springing out, lightsaber at the ready, but this is an Inquisitor you’re facing right now. You’ll have to up your game a bit more. A rush of energy flowed across every vein in your body, granting a burst of power and strength when trading strikes with Cal. You went with a flourishing attack until his deflection brought both of you leaning sideward to the ground; still improvising and maximizing the environment, you quickly pulled away and then skidded your boot hard against the earth—particles of the soil pricked Cal’s eyes and caused him to break from his form.

Just when you thought you had the chance to finally deal damage at him while he’s open, you stood corrected as he blocked you at the last minute while half-blind.

“Fighting dirty, aren’t we?” Cal hissed, you expected him to be vexed, but there was a mischievous purring in his voice.

“Just a style I peppered in!” you snapped back.

Cal patted off the dust that caught in his eyes. You afforded him the dignity of recomposing himself before you could attack again. You wonder if he felt that you couldn’t bring himself to strike him down—meaning, actually fatally wounding him with your saber.

He may not have vocally expressed that he was mad, but you saw it in the way his attack patterns shifted and evolved. The blows got heavier and the strikes were stronger; he even zoomed around the battlefield the same way Trilla and the Ninth Sister evaded your attacks back then! He refused to let the distance close between you. It was getting difficult to dodge him, but more so in getting close to him just to swing at him.

“Huh, I thought you’d see that coming,” he sniggered, expecting you to be able to catch up with him even though he’s zooming from point to point.

You were slowly getting nauseous as you spun in place, anticipating him and from where he’s going to attack you. Your defense was slowly breaking as he tires you out, but he saw that you’re refusing with all your willpower.

 _Stay still, goddamnit!_ You hissed in your mind, desperate but mostly annoyed with this new trick. Personally, you hated this when you faced either the Second or Ninth Sister.

“For how long will that endurance of yours last?” Cal jeered, his figure disappearing and then appearing here and there.

“As long as it takes until I knock you down!” you barked.

“You were always the achiever between the two of us,” he stopped his teleporting, he splits his saber and throws _both_ of them to you.

That was a more extreme throw-attack compared to any of the Inquisitors you’ve faced. Luckily, one saber is enough to deflect both—credit is due to your dexterity. When one of the sabers returned to Cal’s hand, the second found its way to the connector and a quick twist sealed them together.

Your next move was your undoing. Coming at a running attack, he takes the chance while you’re still off guard—he extends his hand to you and suddenly you couldn’t move your entire body.

You are literally frozen—saber hand pulled back, seemingly ready for an overhead attack. You try to pull away but you just keep bouncing back into place.

_WHAT?!_

“How did you—?”

“You’re not the only one mastered the Force-Halt,” he snickered, quite proud of himself to break the news to you.

Short, panicked breaths escaped your lungs; you tried to move even just a finger but you could only do so much as twitch and that’s that. Cal approaches you while you remain as steady as a statue. A steely glower intently fixates on you. The closer he gets, the more out of control your heartbeat became.

Was it fear?

Were you actually stimulated by this?

Cal brings his hand to you. The first thing that came into your mind that he’s going to use one of his abilities on you. Your entire person shifted left and right, as if trying to scamper free from this hold, but to no avail. He ignored your helpless escape attempt.

He ran a gloved finger across your cheek. His touch was something you longed for, but this felt different—it was from someone you knew, but it still felt strange. He withdrew his finger, motioned his hand to turn and your entire body rotated in the same direction as his hand. You didn’t realize that you’ve already reached the first half of the course—where it’s close by the ship and in view of the town below.

“No…!” you sobbed when you saw towers of smoke waft from the settlement.

Standing behind you, Cal sweeps your hair to the back of your shoulder, exposing your neck, he brought his lips close to your ear; you could’ve sworn you felt the hairs of his stubble prickle on your cheek, the warmth of his breath blowing at the crook of your shoulder, hence the hairs on your nape stood.

“You know, I could make this all go away,”

He didn’t expect an answer and continued on.

“After they’re done with that quaint, little town, we’ll find the Mantis next and we’ll take the Holocron from Magyon.”

“You wouldn’t!”

In your mind, you still focused on breaking free, you pondered if his Force-Halt was exactly the same as yours that he simply copied or if he’s managed to improve it to overpower yours.

“You don’t believe me? They all follow under my directive. If you come with me, everyone—especially those in the Mantis—shall be spared for sure, and perhaps those who aren’t dead yet in the village,”

“And if I don’t?” you hissed and he smirked in reaction.

He slightly bends over so his face is level with yours, the gap between his lips and your face is just as thin as a thread when he turned his face to you as he spoke. His eyes trailed up and down, studying the contours of your face, the beads of sweat that riddled your temples, and the way your eyes struggle to avert from his gaze.

“You and I will watch the whole town burn _and_ capture the crew, they’ll be charged with sedition by the time they’re caught. Either way, I’ll still get the Holocron one way or another,”

“Oh, so you’re making me choose who dies and who lives like how the Grand Inquisitor pitched it to you? How generous. Not exactly a win-win for either party, though,” you snapped.

He smirked at your rebuttal, he wasn’t—in the slightest bit—offended. In truth, he missed your sarcasm. Oftentimes, he imagined what life would be like if you were in the fortress at Koboth, either as an Inquisitor initiate or just a plain captive.

“I see your snark aged well,”

You scoffed a prideful chuckle, “ _You_ aged well.”

“So, [y/n], what is it going to be, darling?”

The sound of the greater waterfall crashing nearly muted the explosions of the cannons’ impact to the buildings in the settlement and the thousands of voices screaming in pain until they vanished into silence. You focused on the waterfall—it was a crazy idea, but it was your only choice. You could feel his influence ebbing, you’re surprised to find that it was shorter than you expected; you took the opportunity right away—once you’ve broken free, you jabbed him on the abdomen with your elbow, catching him off-guard and then bolting it towards the edge. You looked back over your shoulder one last time.

“GET READY FOR A DROP, BD!!!” you howled as you dropped to the water.

Cal recomposed himself, ran to the edge and peered over at the river. The thick spray of mist fogged his view of the water itself, practically cloaking you as the craziest, improvised escape plan ever hatched has been executed. There was no visible sign of you in the water from Cal’s point of view. Stormtroopers come running through the forest eager to report.

“Sir, they’re gone!”

“What do you mean gone?”

“The Jedi’s ship! We lost it when it took off!”

Frustrated, he resorted to having the town garrisoned first. After that, Cal made it absolutely clear that he’ll find you no matter how far in the galaxy you’ve gotten. The Stormtroopers led him out of the forest and escorted him to the town where he prepared his business.

The impact was sharp, you let the wild current of the river carry you downstream, your head popped into the surface every once in a while to get some air—before the rapids knock your head back under the water. It wasn’t long until you’ve reached calmer waters. You swam up to the surface and finally got a chance to catch your breath.

“Cere? Come in, Cere!”

“[y/n]?! Where are you? Imps sieged the town and—!”

Relief washed over you—aside from the cold water—when you heard Cere’s voice loud and clear. You swam to a shoreline downstream to continue your conversation.

“Listen to me, it’s Cal! It was all Cal,”

“You don’t mean…?”

“I’ll explain everything in the ship. I’m in the river after the bigger waterfall, are you near?”

“Kid, wear anything darker and we might mistake you for a boulder in the water!” Greez cut in just to get his joke at you across.

Greez’s jokes always boosted the beacon of hope that Cere’s voice personifies. The engine hum of the Mantis became louder and louder, you could feel its thrusters blowing at the water and trees around, but you couldn’t see it.

“Merrin, of course!” You exclaimed, recalling that she can cloak the ship.

Emerald glitters flickered as the Mantis gradually materialized on sight. Merrin and Cere appeared on the end of the entry ramp and kicked down a ladder at the edge.

“Hurry, [y/n]! I’m not supposed to reveal ourselves!”

You swam close to the suspended ladder and climbed as the ship slowly maneuvered to face forward and then disappeared into thin air again thanks to Merrin’s magic. The invisible Mantis darted through the skies, heading off-planet before the enemy discovers that they’ve been eluded. Your knees felt wobbly from the altitude and so dragged yourself to the seat in the cockpit to _really_ catch your breath.

“You mind telling us now what just happened back there?”

“I’ll explain in a sec,” you raised a weak hand at them, gasping for breath as the adrenaline was too much for you to handle.

Despite being physically exhausted, your fingers worked their magic whenever they touch the buttons on the dashboard; you were optimizing the speed thrusters for your getaway—and you perfectly knew that Greez doesn’t like it when you get closer to the middle part of the dashboard.

He slapped your hand going for the button that will activate the top speed of the Mantis’s throttle.

“Whoa, whoa, hey! What the heck are you doing, kid!?”

“What, you don’t plan on getting away? An Inquisitor’s fleet just terrorized the town!”

Greez, Cere, and Merrin exchanged glances as you prepped the Mantis for the trip. You punched it and the captain had no choice but to accelerate and get the hell out of the planet before the Imperials find their missing ship.


	6. The Hermit

So many questions rang in Cere’s mind, though she took her time in listing them up neatly in her mind. She started with the question why Imperials have arrived to the planet and started obliterating the biggest settlement.

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask Cal,”

“Cal?” Greez was taken aback by the mention of his name. “Cal was there?”

“Yeah,” your pursed your lips and clicked your tongue. “I suppose he’s an Inquisitor now.”

“What? An Inquisitor?!” the Lateron captain exclaimed in disbelief.

“Well, given the last time we saw him, we all thought it was highly likely, innit?”

Cere ticked off that question and went on with the next.

“[y/n],” she cautiously spoke this time, gulping the lump stuck in her throat. “Did Cal do all that? The town?”

You swiveled your chair to face Cere—and Merrin who’s standing by the woman’s chair—and sighed.

“Yes. He told me that it was his directive to attack the town. How he found us here is something I don’t know, but I have a theory: they might have had spies in the town, though I shouldn’t be surprised since there were troopers there in the first place. My gravest assumption would be anyone in the Yewa Docking Bay.”

Loud sighs and nervous murmurs spoke for everybody in the cockpit. Everyone couldn’t utter a word. You swiveled the chair back and started inputting coordinates on the computer.

“What are you doing now?” the captain scolded.

“He’s still after the Holocron we retrieved from Magyon. I know someone who can be a better keeper, he’ll be the _very least_ the Inquisitors—or Cal for that matter—will expect. At the same time, we’ll make our trail cold.”

The captain confirmed the coordinates that you’ve encoded into the navigation computer and got the ship ready for a jump to lightspeed. He cranked the lever and the ship enters hyperspace. When the situation has calmed down, you spun your chair again to face Cere.

“Cere, a word?”

“Of course,”

The woman promptly stood up from her seat and settled yourselves on the couch at the holotable.

“Something on your mind?”

“When I fought Cal, he was so different—he’s gotten more aggressive and heavier with his attacks. It’s like I barely knew him, even though he was such a familiar face. Frankly, he was scary,”

“It apparently has something to do with the training he received as an Inquisitor,”

“There’s another,” you adjusted yourself in your seat. “You know about my Force-Halt, right? The day we left Bogano.”

She nodded, urging you to continue.

“Well, it turns out, Cal knows how to use it too,”

The uneasiness became more evident in Cere: her eyebrows furrowed, her head turned to the floor, staring blankly at it while she registers that information.

“ _But_ ,” that word cut off Cere from further zoning out. “He bragged to me that he’s mastered it, though, it also lasted for a short time. That’s why I was able to break free.”

Comparing the durations between your Force-Halt and his, you recalled the last moments that unfurled in Koboth—that day, you were able to keep him under the ability’s influence even from a long distance; though you couldn’t pinpoint whether the distance or voluntarily letting go factored to him breaking free. Both possibilities were logical, but there only has to be one.

“Then it could only mean he’s learned it later than you did. Perhaps, he’s still learning the ropes of it. Either way, you have to be careful whenever he does use it on you,”

Without a doubt, Cal will use it on you the next time he does. For now, the thing on your mind right now is getting to the planet where _that_ person may be, and then hop to the next planet.

The trip was long so you retreat to your room, changed into a tank top and fresh pants to let your drenched outfit dry up. You donned a poncho to keep yourself warm from the Mantis’s air-conditioning.

You fished out the Holocron that you have been keeping in one of your bags. You sat in the lounge, joining Cere who was strumming away with her hallikset, she noticed the cyan cube pulsating its light in your hand.

“[y/n]?”

“You know, we’ve kept it all this time and not a day goes by without me thinking what could be inside,”

You look to Cere for some sort of affirmation or reassurance. The cube weighed on the flat of your palm and you channeled the Force from yourself to the Holocron. A rhythmic clicking noise emitted from the golden frame of the artifact, the once-whole pieces reduced into floating shards until a projection hatched out.

It was Plo Koon’s list of the Force-sensitive children he’s discovered throughout his journey.

“It’s exactly like the first one,” Merrin commented.

All eyes wandered across the luminous, indigo hologram riddled with the names written in Aurebesh. The projection is visualized like a sort of map, hence its circular image, with the dots signifying the planets where they could be found. The projection continued to hover and illuminate the room.

“There’s something on _my_ mind that I want to say to you, [y/n],”

“Shoot,”

“This planet we’re heading to, how did you come to know it? What makes you think there’s someone who can keep it safer than we could?”

It was a good question. You search for the Cere’s holocron, you reached for it using the Force when you spotted it sitting on the corner of the dining table. Cere understood your plan, and you haven’t even activated it yet.

“You actually think that he’s there—in the planet that we’re heading to right now?”

“Look, Cere, I know it’s funny and you probably think I’m crazy or stupid or both. I don’t blame you if you think it’s illogical but…” you scoffed out a weak laugh, trying to gather the best words to be coherent. “I can’t explain it. Even when meditating, I feel it, the Force—as if speaking to me, telling me to trust my feelings. At first I didn’t listen to it because I thought the Force is toying with me just because I’ve become vulnerable all this time. But this time, I don’t think I have an excuse to not trust in my own instincts.”

There was a silence in the lounge. The microphone’s feedback crackled and a muffled rendition of Greez’s voice rang through the speakers.

“We’ve entered the planet’s orbit.”

All the women marched to the cockpit and got a view of the beige, sandy planet. Even from that a great distance, you felt a strong pull of the Force leading you on. That feeling was enough of a reassurance.

You assisted Greez in steering the ship, pinpointing safe areas that you could find in your navigation computer and then transmitting them to his own screen for him to follow. The Mantis landed behind a ridge where they’re safe from prying eyes. You suited up a poncho over your jacket so you blend with the sand and then pull up the hood; your bag containing the holocron and a few necessary items slung across your back. BD-1 crawled up your arm and then perched on your shoulder.

“How long do we have before the next jump is charged and ready?”

“Give it a few hours,” Greez replied.

“I won’t be long,” you tell Cere.

“Be careful out there,”

“Don’t I always?”

“Not really,”

It was the truth, though it warranted a laugh out of you.

You left the ship and began your trek through the flat, sandy wasteland. The low-lying haze of dust swept through your calves as you stamp your feet across the terrain. It felt like you’ve brought yourself to a purgatory of nothingness—save the extreme combined heat of _two_ suns and the winds constantly changing direction to whisk up towers of dust clouds.

The golden brown sediments pricked the pores on your cheeks, you’ve already pulled up the flaps of your poncho to cover your nose and mouth but it didn’t do much. When the winds have picked up again, you found yourself passing through a low trench, shielding yourself from the inconvenience out in the open.

“Spooky, isn’t it, BD?”

“Boooo…”

“Don’t worry, I’m here, buddy.”

You unclipped your saber but didn’t ignite it, readying yourself for any attack that comes in the way.

An animalistic howl echoed between the crevices of the rocks and then you were jumped by a Tusken Raider! The end of its staff struck you across the cheek before you could even attack, causing you to drop your saber. Its weapon jabbed hard on your shin—and the pain was stomach-churning. You scuttled away from it and towards your lightsaber lying in a cushion of sand.

You had your hands literally full—on one, you were pulling for your saber; on the other, you inflicted Force-Halt on the Tusken. With the enemy frozen, your scuttling doubled its haste in going for the lightsaber. Certain with your ability, you took your time in hobbling back to the Tusken Raider you’re your saber ignited while it was standing painfully still.

You struck it down and snapped for a stim. It wasn’t a total recovery, the stim only numbed the pain tolerable enough for you to run with a shattered shin. When the curb of the pass was in sight, you slowed down with the running, presuming there might be more waiting once you make the turn. You stalked the path carefully, apparently your would-be assailant lost its patience and sprung out of its hiding place; holding the staff above its head and bobbing it up and down to assert dominance while doing its primal call.

The broken shin messed up your balance, and subsequently your fighting form. A swing of your saber severed its war club and then you introduced the sole of your boot to its chin, disorienting it and preparing to strike it down—but you were denied that chance when another gripped you by the shoulders to drag you across the floor.

“GET OFF!” you growled, violently shaking its grip off of you.

You threw your sword arm upward and drove your saber into the Tusken’s jugular—which you assumed it to be—and then its lifeless body disturbed the sand. This angered the one whose staff you just severed. It charged angrily towards you, there wasn’t a shred of sentience or humanity in its stride; you felt something or someone land from behind—you were too afraid to look and it would kill you if you glance over your shoulder. The Tusken Raider, once so wild with its movements and flailing its arms with great assertion, shirked in fear and retreated to the pass where it came from.

You felt a pair of gentle, kind hands clutch your arms, hoisting you up from the ground.

“You caught yourself in quite a pickle there, my dear,”

Still stricken with the events that transpired just now, you slowly craned your head to the side. Your savior is dressed in a dust-caked cloak whose hemlines at the sleeves and body were tattered due to time, his beard has grown past the tip of his chin and covered most of his jaw, and locks of his hair as brown as the sand flopped and hung in front of his forehead.

You know this man.

“Master Kenobi?” you uttered the only thing that came to your mind after everything.

“Well, I don’t think the word ‘Master’ warrants any meaning here,” he dryly chuckled. “Come, you’ve only met a small scouting patrol. We’ll be in big trouble if we linger.”

You winced when you planted the balls of your feet on the ground. The former Jedi Master saw your limping leg and noticed the bruise forming up in your cheek.

“Oh dear, are you alright, child?”

“Yes, I’m fine,”

“I think not,” he insisted. He bent down on his knees and checked your leg. He placed one hand on the spot where the Tusken had jabbed its pommel and suddenly appeared to be focusing.

A calming sensation entered your body—it was cool like water in a stream and swirled about the length of your shin. Obi-Wan withdrew his hand and you bobbed your leg, feeling for the pain—there’s no more pain. You shot him a surprised look and a smile paints on your face, he repaid it with a kind smile but his serious and urgent tone returned in an instant.

“Come with me and we’ll talk somewhere safe.”

You followed him across the ridge, evading the areas where there would be more Tusken Raiders patrolling the plains. The rocks acted as your cover. Along the way, Obi-Wan engaged in banter with you to rid any awkward air between the two of you.

“I suppose I should start asking for your name,”

“[y/n], Master,”

“And how did you get here?”

“You mean the planet or that trench pass?”

“Humor me on both,”

“Well, I came to this planet with a ship and a crew. They’re staying with the ship,”

“While you head out here all alone?”

“Uh, I chose to be alone,” you mumbled. “Anyway, I trekked all this way to come looking for you.”

“I suppose you can tick that off in your to-do list,”

You chuckled, “Yeah, I guess.”

The two of you went uphill until a small cottage was in sight. He invited you into his house and offered you a glass of blue milk. You didn’t realize that the thirst was overwhelming that you chugged the whole glass.

“Sorry, the heat just took its toll on me,”

“It _is_ a rather unforgiving place. Now then,” he settled himself on a seat across you. “What’s a young Jedi like you doing in this desolate planet in search of a tired, aging hermit like me?”

You unslung the strap of your backpack, producing the Holocron out of your bag and holding it in front of him.

“This Holocron was originally Plo Koon’s,”

Obi-Wan mouthed the name while running his thumb across his beard.

“This contains a list of _all_ the Force-sensitive children in the galaxy. If fallen into the wrong hands, these kids will be tools of the Inquisitors or the Empire—not that there’s much of a difference between the two, anyway.”

“Inquisitors?”

“Basically, they’re the hounds of the Empire, snuffing out the Jedi to destroy them. Aside from the typical Stormtroopers of course,”

Discovering that he has missed out on much of the Empire’s workings, you became his window to the outside world. It has been years since he’s exiled himself here in Tatooine with barely any connection beyond the planet. You narrated everything that’s transpired—not just the events revolving around you and Cal, but for everyone else in the galaxy: the partisans in Kashyyyk and the violent occupation at Zeffo to name some.

“And how much destruction have they wrought?”

You shake your head, “Not sure, exactly. But all I can say is that the damage is irreparable.”

Eventually, you peppered in the story of Cal, how he turned into the Inquisitor, and that he’s after this particular Holocron. Without any more filler talk, you went right into your true reason why you sought Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“Hermit or not, you’re still a Jedi—whether you _were_ or _are_ , it doesn’t matter. I still believe it’s safer with you than it is with me. You won’t even come across the Inquisitors’ minds. I doubt it.”

“Well, [y/n], that does sound reassuring,” you couldn’t decipher if he’s serious or sarcastic with that remark.

He stands up to take the Holocron from your hands. He activated it and the relic emitted the luminous projection from its shell, his eyes trailed left and right, reading the children’s names and planets. There was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t read—unsure if it’s a look of resignation, obligation, or hopelessness. Then his eyes lit up, a secretive curl in his lip hid behind the scruff of his beard.

“I believe that _he_ can keep it safe, but I will reveal it to him once it is time,”

Your eyes furrowed, “Who’s _he_?”

He lifted the lid of a box with a silver hilt resting inside, the Holocron eventually joined the weapon in the container.

“Our only hope.”

For the whole conversation, that was the most enigmatic answer you’ve heard from Obi-Wan Kenobi. You don’t believe that it’s the heat that’s gotten into his head. You truly believe that there was some meaning to his words, even though you’re not sure what to comprehend from that.


	7. What the Heart Beckons

You apologize to Obi-Wan profusely for giving him this responsibility.

“Oh come now, there’s no need for apologies,” he smiled. “I believe there is a reason for all of this.”

“What is?”

“Everything happening right now, and I truly believe that there’s an endgame. Though, I can’t say for sure if it will benefit the good or the bad.”

“Well, the only way to find out is to see how it all plays until the very end. What I’m in is just another part of the game,”

“Indeed.”

He joined you outside his abode and taught you a shorter way to your ship, it was a path that leads you away from the places where the Tusken Raiders are more likely to be found.

“Just keep low by the rocks,” Obi-Wan added.

“Got it. Thank you, Master Kenobi,” you said as you slung your bag and headed downhill.

“Oh, and [y/n]?” his call stopped your in your tracks, you look back and find him smiling. “May the Force be with you.”

A load from your chest dissolved, your heart felt light after hearing those words.

“May the Force be with you, Master Kenobi.” You bid back and headed out this time for sure.

You were thankful that he gave you directions to a shortcut, which was significantly shorter in terms of travel time and easier to traverse on. There were no animals that you could tame and ride like the Varans; you could only see those large, brown beasts that move slower than a Slyyyg’s pace and gave up on searching possible mounts to make the trip faster.

Halfway in, you uncapped a bottle and brought its nozzle to your mouth—careful not to spill, you gulped every cold drop that frostbit the walls of your throat. You had to conserve the water while you’re still out in the open. Along the way, the tense heat has finally subsided—but it only meant that it’s getting dark soon. Gold and indigo colors mingled in the sky over the horizon, the twin suns changed from a harsh, blinding white-yellow light, it dimmed down to a soft orange hue.

“It’s beautiful, BD,” you sighed.

“Woooo!”

“Shame he’s not here to see it. He always liked sunsets. I wonder if he still does,”

The ridge where the Mantis sat by was close. Cere could see you from below, she’s sitting by the open entry ramp with Merrin and Greez waiting outside the ship. From where you stand, you slid down the slope of sand and jumped down at the end with the sand cushioning the impact of your landing.

“Gods, [y/n], what happened to you?!” Merrin exclaimed, the first thing she noticed was the purple patch on your face.

“I ran into some… _locals_. I don’t think they like visitors,” you blurted.

“I’ll go get some ice for that,” the Nightsister rushed into the ship and you could hear the clattering of the cabinet doors.

“Well, how did it go?” Cere asked.

“It went actually better than I hoped for. I’ll tell you on the way,” you shifted to Greez. “Can the ship make another jump?”

“Right, of course! Let me just fire the old girl up!” he dryly chuckled and then sprinkled in some extra grumbling as he waddled into the ship.

“He was more eccentric than I hoped,” you snickered as you and Cere entered the ship together.

You hopped right into your seat in the ship and typed another string of coordinates into the computer. From your periphery, you saw Greez peeking over your shoulder as a small image of the planet flashes on the screen.

“Where… are you taking us this time?”

“Alyon, it’s a remote planet. Tropical _and_ temperate. You’d love it there, Greez!”

“Oh sure, I love overworking my sweat glands with severely humid tropical temperature!”

You shot him your smug face, “Punch it then.”

The Mantis appeared in the sky, Obi-Wan watched the ship fly away out of the atmosphere until it was nothing but a silver speck in the clouds. He gave out a resigned sigh, turned to the other side of Tatooine’s horizon, something about that small, white dome sitting in the middle of nowhere made him smile. He retreated into his cottage as the suns begin to sink.

Thankfully, Tatooine and Alyon are in the same system, although there was a stretch of distance between them; Greez said not to worry as the Mantis could cover the distance without overworking the lightspeed compressor.

Everyone won’t admit it, but they’re anxious once they’re in deep space. Greez was beginning to regret declining your offer in outfitting more powerful ion cannons on the Mantis, however, it’s doing well so far. The scanners weren’t picking up any blips, it was also negative on Cere’s side—she’s not picking up any Imperial signals.

“They can still calculate our last known trajectory, y’know,” Greez pointed out.

“Then it’s like looking back and forth on lines scribbled on paper: pointless.”

“I wish I had the same perspective, kiddo,”

You dismissed yourself to your bedroom and shed all over your outer clothes, exempting the tank top. You slouched on the bed and examined your once-messed up leg. BD-1 panned his scanners across your shin and beeped out his diagnosis.

“Really? That’s good to hear. I can’t fight our ginger Inquisitor with a screwed-up leg, right?”

“Wooo!” BD whistled in agreement.

It was another long trip, enough for Greez to keep the ship on auto-pilot while still travelling through hyperspace and whip up some snacks. You gave a hard pass. You decided to rest in your bedroom—suddenly, you weren’t so used to desert heat. You preferred the temperate kind all because of Cameegon.

While the others snack away with fruits and bread, you paid a visit on the workbench—particularly, Cal’s lightsaber. You shut your eyes and tried to recall everything, as if trying to recognize him by repeatedly playing all the memories in your mind: his dark-tinted hair, the stubble that tickled your cheeks and jaw, the way he spoke with his eyes, the trademark lightsaber of the Inquisitor and the fluid way he moved with it. Thankfully, the imprints on the saber remained the same—you’re still figuring out if there was a way to get rid of the negative feelings.

You passed the time tweaking and polishing both sabers. Every once in a while, you’d use his saber to practice dual-wielding—conjoined or otherwise. You’ve indulged so much in your pastime that you didn’t notice the silence.

Meanwhile, Cal has flown back into his command ship hours ago and is staying in his personal quarters after the garrison has been established. In the solitude of his bedroom, he allowed himself to lose control: his lightsaber flung across the bedroom, a clang vibrated across the stale metal walls, he swept away the glasses and pitchers littered on his island counter, the datapads and hologram pucks flew off from the table in a single swing of the arm.

From the outside, the patrolling guards stared at the door, listening for the muffled noises coming from Cal’s side. They traded slow, awkward glances at one another—the banging sounds made their shoulders jump with every impact, they’re somewhat anticipating for indistinct shouts and roars but none came.

“I think we should call the cleaning droid,” one Stormtrooper suggested.

“Yep. I’ll radio that now,”

Minutes later, a protocol droid comes knocking in and introducing itself while doing the work. The least the Eleventh Brother could do was be polite to it and not scare it off.

“My apologies for the mess,” he sighed.

“Oh, it’s not a bother, sir. I will have these broken items replaced immediately.”

“Thank you,”

The Eleventh Brother gave himself time to calm down in the presence of the droid—he liked his privacy too much for anybody or _anything_ to see him be himself. The droid leaves after rearranging the things on the floor, though it avoided the lightsaber lying on the floor. When the blast door shut, the young Inquisitor brooded over everything in his mind: the thoughts before, during and after his encounter with you in the forest, his impression of you, and the feelings he’s repressed all this time.

The seething rage and anger—which he doesn’t know whom to direct it to—burned all over his body. It was so intense that it made him feel hot all over. He tugged at his collar, struggled to take slow breaths, and clear his mind. Those efforts proved to be futile. He propped himself against the edge of his holotable, staring blankly at the empty surface of the machine, and attempted to clear his mind once more.

A faint, soothing sensation entered his body out of the blue.

It was sudden yet gentle, like a quick jab that landed a careful impact. The sensation—its warmth—was familiar though he can’t point his finger on it. He couldn’t explain it.

The Eleventh Brother starts to seek it, surveying his bedroom to trace where that feeling was coming from—it was the Force that beckoned him, but it wasn’t the Dark Side, he knew it wasn’t.

He still hasn’t mastered how to revel in it the way he’s supposed to—the Grand Inquisitor saw that. The master also saw that his groomed fledgling is still clinging on to certain emotions.

“If you cannot bring yourself to let those feelings go, you will either grow weak or you will have to make yourself resourceful with it.” The lumbering Pau’an once lectured the boy some time ago in the middle of his training.

The voice of the Grand Inquisitor and his words on that lesson rang in his head, but it was short-lived. He kept his mind fixed onto that strange feeling that caught his attention. The idea of following it, finding it, sounded appealing to him—it was almost seductive. This spurred his curiosity and led him out of his bedroom. The young Inquisitor prowled through the hallways, ignoring everyone who bumped into him—the employees didn’t even greeted or nodded to him, they simply gave way.

It felt like the trail was growing colder, weaker, and he was inclined to think it was just the exhaustion getting to him.

Cal found himself in an empty corridor. _Am I in a dead end?_ He pondered to himself.

“[y/n]…?”he dared to utter. He didn’t know why, he felt like saying it.

Oddly enough, you heard your name being called. You turned around and there was nothing. But the voice… You know that voice better than anyone. Just hearing it spiked your senses—especially seeing, hearing, and feeling.

The discovery made you drop everything you’re doing—you put down the rag and the lightsaber part you’re polishing to search for the voice that uttered your name. You didn’t respond and hoped it would speak again.

 _What’s this feeling I’m picking up?_ You wonder in the dead silence.

Cal turned his head the other way and saw you standing at the dead end, with your back turned to him.

“[y/n]?” he takes one cautious step close.

In Cal’s perspective, he can _see_ you physically—it’s as if you’re standing in the corridor with him. You were moving naturally with the subtle head-tilts followed by the slight brushing of your ponytail against your back, the pivot of your arms and elbows, and the noticeable shine of the lightsaber nestled in delicate grip of your fingers. He gulped a non-existent lump in his throat when your tank top partially revealed your upper back and the strap slid off from your shoulder.

_When did she get here?_

The echo of your name rung again behind you; this time you decide to do it slowly—first, angling your neck until you could glance over your shoulder. All of a sudden, you find Cal standing in front of you inside _your_ bedroom in the Mantis!

_When did he get here!?_

Normally, you would’ve jumped or screamed and literally dropped everything to the floor. But it doesn’t make any sense to you. How did he get past? Why didn’t anybody from outside warn you about him?

“You see me, don’t you?” he spoke.

“And _you_ see _me_?”

“As clear as day.”

You shake your head slightly, “I don’t understand…”

“What’s going on?”

You didn’t answer—rather, you _couldn’t_ answer and you _looked_ for an answer. It was crazy, but you took a step forward—and Cal sees your every move from his point of view too, he didn’t even realize his feet have dragged him one step forward, past the small bed.

“Where… where are you?” you asked.

“In my command ship,”

He guessed that you’re in the Mantis. Where else would you be?

His eyes trailed from bottom up. He spotted the bruise on your cheekbone, by impulse he stepped closer with his arm slightly reaching for you.

“What happened to you?”

“Huh?” you instantly realize that you forgot that you’ve been struck by a Tusken Raider. “It’s nothing. I… I bumped into a wall.”

An unamused chuckle huffed between his lips, “You, of all people? I doubt it.”

“Look, whatever it is you’re doing, stop it!”

“I’m not doing anything. This isn’t on me,”

From that reply, the confusion just spiraled deeper.

“Do you think the Force connected us?” he added.

“But how did it…?”

You trailed off. Thinking about it more just gave you migraine. An inch was the only thing that stood between the two of you. This was the _only_ docile moment you’ve ever shared. Standing so close to him made your chest constrict, hot tears welled up and stung your eyes—you got a better look of Cal, without violently flinging lightsabers at one another. Past that dark façade, you hoped that he’s still the same boy you still love.

The young Inquisitor fondly gazes back at the girl— _his_ girl—standing in front of him; although he isn’t entirely sure whether it’s all real or just an illusion, nonetheless, it was something he didn’t know he needed.

Another step closer to you. He can almost feel the warm air around the Mantis and hear the machine hum.

“It’s still you,” you gasped.

“What do you mean?”

“I still see the _real_ you.

I still feel the good in you,”

He wanted to prove you wrong. But what good will his words do? Will telling you that he’s not the same person shake your resolve? No, even when you’re far apart from one another—he still knows you all too well.

You slowly hoist your hand, you watch Cal mirror you, and like magnets your fingers gravitated towards each other. The inches diminish every second.

To feel each other once more…

It felt like a sin. The thought of it. The act of it.

“Kid, get in here!”

Greez’s abrupt call through the speakers in the room startled you and faltered your focus altogether; in the next second you blinked, Cal was gone. You were all alone again in the quarters. You shrugged it off and decided that it was wise to keep it to yourself; you hurried to the cockpit and co-piloted from your seat.

As for Cal, he wasn’t sure what went wrong. His fingertips were so close to yours, in the blink of an eye, he found himself alone in that corridor. A lieutenant patrolling the area spotted the Eleventh Brother standing in the middle of the way, looking left and right for something.

“Sir, is there something wrong?” the officer initiated.

“Nothing, I just… took a wrong turn,”

Cal marched past the lieutenant and headed back to his chambers. Questions piled up in his head, followed by theories and assumptions that do more harm than good—it just made him overthink, and overthink he did when he shut the door behind him and rummaged through his small shelf of texts from the Jedi Temple ruins in Coruscant as well as manuscripts that the Grand Inquisitor loaned.

Crusty parchments rustled between his fingers as he flipped the page, every once in a while, his finger would run down the pages to find a keyword or a drawn figure—anything goes. Reporting this to the Grand Inquisitor treaded in a gray line between “do it” and “do _not_ do it” for Cal. Regardless, he’s found another thing to while away: sticking his nose into the books for the sake of figuring out the answer to _how_ and _why_ the Force connected the two of you together.


	8. Same Link, Different Mettle

Alyon greeted you with black cliffs topped with green patches of grass that rose to the skies, seafoam that’s whiter than bone striped the deep blue seas, and golden patches of sand mingled with the lush green jungles resting at the foot of the mountains.

The Mantis found a nice spot to land on—by the mesa that overlooks the seaside town not bigger than the one in Hoga.

“This place is mesmerizing, [y/n],” Merrin commented.

“It’s not every day we get to beautiful places in the galaxy without the Empire chasing us,” Cere added.

“Yeah, well, hopefully this time—they won’t,” you abruptly stood up from the seat. “I’m gonna take a look around,”

You darted towards the room and got dressed, donning Cal’s Bracca scrapper poncho for the first time. With the Holocron gone, it felt like a load has been lifted from your shoulders—literally and figuratively—as you wore the straps of your bag. BD-1 hopped onto your shoulder as you leave the room.

“I don’t have to tell you again, [y/n],”

“Yes, Cere, I know. Don’t die. Or was it be careful?”

“Both, actually.”

“Gotcha,” she smiled.

It’s a perpetual question in Cere’s mind how you’re able to smile in the midst of all this predicament. Perhaps, it was an indication of your strength. After all that torment you’ve endured in Cal’s absence, you weren’t just back to normal—you’ve changed but for the better.

Compared to your pit stop earlier, trekking through the terrain was a breeze. The sight of the ocean lifted your spirits, the blades of grass tickled your calves, and the sun mildly shone above your head. Along the way, you frolicked in the wild plains—spinning and sprinting around with a child-like innocence—the flaps of your poncho felt like wings as the untamed winds blew to your direction.

There was no sign of the Empire in that seaside town, diverse peoples inhabit the settlement. Yet, the population seemed sparse for a sizable settlement. Your arrival was met with curious stares and vendors’ hollers. There’s no team of armed men marching to your general direction for the welcome wagon—nevertheless, you remained vigilant.

“Stay close, BD,” you muttered.

You approached a fruit stall and browsed; an animal penned inside a stable right next to the stall bleated to get your attention. Ever the curious friend, BD-1 perched onto the fence post and scanned the animal that was chewing on a stalk of hay.

“I knew you’d take a scan of it!” you teased.

BD-1 chirped, you translated it to him saying the animal’s name.

“ _That_ , my dear, is a Dimal,”

The fruit stall owner pointed at the tall, woolly animal, its jowls flopped and its rounded upright ears twitched with every chew of the hay stalk. You treated it to a Meiloorun fruit. You brought it close to the Dimal’s mouth, sniffing it first before gobbling it up in its mouth.

“You’re welcome,” you chuckled.

Even with its mouth full, it replied with a muffled grunt and continued gnawing on the large fruit in its seemingly narrow mouth.

“Haven’t seen you in these parts,” the same shop owner blurted, his native dialect was thick.

“I’m a traveler, I just got here,”

After shopping, you headed back to the ship, the old man was kind enough to slip in a few extra berries for the road. You expressed your thanks and went around the town some more—and there was a lively sound coming from up ahead.

Music.

“Do you hear that, BD?”

“Booo!”

“Come on, let’s go take a look,”

You followed the music, colorful notes emitted from the various instruments. A group of dancers performed in perfect synchronization in the middle of the square, their footwork followed the speed of the fifes, the bystanders that circled them clapped to the beat of the drum, and for the finale they cheered once the abrupt strum of all strings of the lute signals the climax of the song.

The dance concluded by a round of applause from the crowd, which you’ve included yourself, you try not to stand out so you immediately vanished from the scene—though it was such a nice sight. You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen a street performance or festival.

* * *

Three days of refuge in Alyon.

For once, things are seeming fine. But you know perfectly well this wouldn’t last, you’re still gripped with the anticipation of the Inquisitor’s arrival now that you’ve engaged with them—Cal, in particular.

You decided to tell your encounter with Cal through the Force with Cere, and you made sure you speak to her about it in great confidence.

“Cere, something strange happened on the day we left Tatooine and headed to Alyon,”

“And what’s that?”

You don’t even know where to begin explaining it.

“Well, it’s… how do I put it? I sort of _saw_ Cal, here in the ship,”

“You mean, in meditation?”

You shake your head, “I wasn’t even meditating! I was doing something on the workbench and then I heard a voice call me, there was like a feeling that I can’t explain. At first, when I turned around there was nothing, so I thought I was just hearing things; but the second time around, I… I find Cal standing inside my bedroom!”

Cere’s head angled to the side, something about her expression alarmed you the same way you alarmed her with your story.

“Could it be…?” she muttered under your breath, though it was still within your earshot.

“Cere, what is it?”

Cere gradually stood up from the couch, “Hold on, I think I have something!”

She retreated to her own quarters where she rummaged through her rucksack. Shortly after, she reappears with a tome with a maroon leather cover, the metal accents along the corners and spines have tarnished, and the edges of the yellowed papers have chipped away due to age. She flipped through the pages looking for one specific section.

“Cordova learned about this phenomenon with the Force many years ago, while I was still his Padawan. Whatever he could find that pertains to it—he wrote it down, drew figures and diagrams, and added his own insights of his research!”

“What’s it called?”

“It’s a Force-Link. Look here,” she scooted closer beside you, pointing at the written paragraph on the page, her finger following the words as she read it out loud. “It’s said a phenomenon when the Force connects two Force-sensitive individuals, regardless of the distance in between, who have forged a dyad.”

In her excitement, Cere beat you to it—though, it felt like she sensed you’d ask about the last word in the paragraph—and flipped over the pages in search of the entry about Force dyads.

“Here,” she pointed at the first paragraph written underneath the header word, and read out loud word-for-word. “A connection that is forged with the Force between two Force-sensitive individuals.”

Cere skipped the longer metaphors and the personal diary entries that Cordova has written. More pages unraveled its mysteries and the woman impulsively read out loud—mostly for her own indulgence.

“Those who are out of the dyad could not see, feel, or hear the other side of the occurrence,”

This explains why the crew couldn’t hear Cal’s voice as you spoke to him during the first Force-Link encounter. Unfortunately, the explanation about manipulating it to either wielder’s whim—such as when will the connection start and when it’ll be severed—appear to be vague.

“Do Force dyads and Force-Links really seldom happen?”

“Yes, it’s quite rare. When I was a Padawan, I never met another Jedi who shared a dyad with another. But now, coming from you, I truly think Cordova was onto something back then. The bond you’ve shared with Cal factored the Force in allowing you to communicate.”

“I wonder if it’s another sign that he can be turned back to the light,” you thought out loud.

Apart from skimming Cordova’s manifests, strolling along the shoreline in barefoot, skimming rocks, seashells, and coral fragments that beached along the sand became a new pastime for you.

You enjoyed this new breed of solitude, but you’re still haunted by that mirage encounter of Cal back inside the Mantis. You find yourself secretly hoping that it would happen again.

On the other side of the galaxy, Cal has been poring page after page for any result about your Force-induced encounter. There were few resources found in his chambers in the command ship, there weren’t any valuable information found in the holotable’s databank either. The whole ordeal irritated him.

“How is it possible not a single manuscript was written about _this_!?” Cal roared, his mask did little in muffling out the sound, he punched the rim of the holotable in fury.

The last thing he thought of was retracing his steps, but the problem is: where does he even begin?

After all, it only happened abruptly and he had no control over it, because it felt like it came to him naturally. Cal theorized that it might be _your_ own doing, but in reality, it wasn’t. He immediately dismissed that theory and went back to pinning down the Force as the primary culprit—frankly, it was the _only_ logical culprit.

“Deep breaths,” he chanted to himself, doing exactly what he tells himself as he paced back and forth inside his room.

In the most uncanny of timings, that very same sensation returned to him—as if someone tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention—he abruptly turned around, he was surprised to see you standing inside the chambers with him.

“You’re quite elusive,” he initiated.

Your reaction to his appearance was understandable, your shoulders flinched while gaping at him. This is also the first time you saw him wearing a mask which muffled his voice, yet still coherent. Although the first time was docile, you can’t always count on him to be the same in the next.

You didn’t reply. You secretly fiddled the small seashell you’ve hid inside your fist while you conversed.

“I still don’t understand how and why this is happening to us. Can they see me?” he added.

“I don’t know…”

There was a stale air looming between you and the Eleventh Brother; the crashing waves of the sea and the machine hum spoke on each other’s behalf. You pursed your lips and your fist clenched tighter, the thin edge of the seashell dug into the flesh of your palm.

“You seem confident. Confident that I’ll never find you after you fled Cameegon like a coward.”

“I’m no coward! I’m not the one who gave in so easily!” you snarled.

“I take it that you’re not coming in quietly,” when he got the silent treatment from you, he continued. “Alright, then you’ll have to watch another innocent town be reduced into rubble like Cameegon. You wouldn’t want, would you? That’ll be a lot of blood in your hands.”

The Inquisitor noticed you flinch and he took pride in provoking you. He takes one step forward and you ignite your saber, having him at swordpoint.

“Ooh, feisty aren’t we?”

“You’ll never find me,” you hissed softly, although it was still within Cal’s earshot. “You’ll never turn me into what you’ve become!”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that. _We always find our way to each other_ , don’t we?”

He spoke the exact same words from his secret projection, a line that you knew too well and caught you off guard; a great thunderclap coming from the horizon startled you—the saber fumbled in your hand and the seashell fell from the other—and he disappeared from where he stood when you looked again.

The same went for the Eleventh Brother. The vibrant apricot seashell clattered on the polished black floor of his chambers. He took the delicate object into his hand and examined it. You unintentionally have given him a clue.

The boy Inquisitor rushed to the command ship’s bridge as fast as he can. His entrance alerted the attending officers; he approached the admiral and held up the shell to his face.

“I want this scanned. Trace its origin planet.”

The officer didn’t have the luxury to ask why and simply obeyed. The admiral took the shell from the young man’s hands and handed it over to one of the computer operators. In less than two minutes, the operator returned the shell along with a small datapad containing the findings.

“Sir, analysis traces it back to Alyon, a tropical planet in the Enca Sector, Ganiv System—it’s in the Outer Rim,” the admiral reported.

“Transmit the coordinates to my ship. Two TIE Fighters and an escort shuttle will come with me.”

“Right away, sir!”

The Eleventh Brother leaves the bridge on the way to the hangar.

“I have you now, [y/n].”

A storm was brewing that evening in Alyon. The thunderclouds have loomed closer to the shore in a dramatic speed. The winds have already picked up, the rain flew in like tiny knives pricking your skin, and the downpour caused the tide to rise earlier than usual. You hurried to getting on higher ground before the water has fully covered the shore.

You pushed through the raging winds, sheltering BD under the flap of your poncho. You blamed yourself for strolling farther from the ship, nightfall has reached you as a consequence, additionally, the town wasn’t any nearer either so it’s not an option.

“No…!” you gasped when the sky had gotten much darker, it doesn’t help with the storm joining in the problem.

The surroundings were all gray and visibility has dropped to zero. You barely see anything in this smokescreen of hail and fog. BD-1’s lights paled in the darkness. You stamped through the damp fields, the harsh winds swayed you farther with every step, but you fought it.

“Almost there, BD-1, hold on!”

Neither you nor BD-1 are safe, not until you’ve set foot into the Mantis. The growing sound of the TIE Fighters’ engine growls signaled their approach and a TIE Interceptor landed at a close distance from you. The hatch opened and out comes Cal, the Eleventh Brother. He stood upright in the midst of the storm, the bright red beam of his lightsaber lit up in the deep grayness.

You’re not going down without a fight.

Cal darted the air towards you, lightsaber at the ready, he found your block weak—it seems the storm has taken its toll on your body. However, he gave credit where it’s due—he admired your fighting spirit. You remained more on the defensive for the greater portion of the fight. The lightning afforded you short bursts of light to see your opponent better—rather, his next attack position.

“There! I see them!” Cere cried, peering through her binoculars and spotting two streaks of light dancing in the fog.

A TIE Fighter sends twin projectiles flying towards the Mantis, barely missing the dorsal fin of the ship but close enough to give it a rumble. Greez started the engine in a panic, Cere ordered him to stay low so they can still pick you up; although, that plan didn’t go so well.

The bitter cold of the wind disoriented you, the angry waves muted the hisses of lightsabers colliding with each other, your head was swirling, the veins on your temple throbbed, and your body had a battle of its own from within. Your lungs struggled as it sucked in cold air, fog wafted through your teeth as you dueled Cal.

The Eleventh Brother watched you charge towards him, ready for a dashed strike, and he prepared himself to time it just right.

_Close enough!_

You feel your entire body freezing up again, as if an icy gust blew throughout your entire being. The last thing you remember is a hearing a thunderclap mingle with the crash of the ocean, a flash of lightning glowed brightly in your puffy, heavy eyes and then suddenly darkness.

The Eleventh Brother caught you in his arms, carrying you bridal-style, and marched to the escort shuttle that he ordered to be included in his convoy.

“NO!!” Cere cried, a crack of lightning flashed as she witnessed him carry your unconscious body.

Your eyelids blinked the dancing lights away until your eyesight has adjusted to the brightness of the room. You gasped upon waking up, you weren’t sure how long you’ve been, but it felt like a long time. Your arms and legs had limited movement, later discovering that you’re strapped into an interrogation machine. Your heartbeat sped up tenfold, you surveyed across the room starting from the ceiling and then the middle part until you found a Stormtrooper standing beside silhouette across the room.

“Good, you’re awake,” the silhouette spoke, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Do you have any other orders, Eleventh Brother?”

“No, I’ll handle this myself. Leave us and wait for my orders,”

“Yes, Eleventh Brother.”

The Stormtrooper departs, leaving you and the Inquisitor in full privacy.

The red glowing accents of his mask lit up in the shadows, he blended perfect well in the darkness. You don’t know what to say back first, frankly, you don’t know what’s happening and how it came to this.

“Is that what they call you now: Eleventh Brother?”

Your snarky question got no reply from him. He removed his mask and placed it on the nearby podium. With that accessory gone, he massaged his jaw and craned his neck until you heard some bones popping.

“Yeah well, you can still call me Cal,” His roguish grin played along his face.

“Where are Cere and the others?”

“No idea,”

“You lie!”

“I never lie—especially to you,” he calmly said.

The young Inquisitor stepped into the light, revealing himself to you once more. There were a few inches dividing you from him. The white light shone over his hair, revealing the faint redness of his hair past the darker tints. You find that there was no terminal like the one in Nur; it was only him and you strapped into the contraption. Surely, this confused you, at the same time it relieved you that you’re spared of the electrifying torment—for now. No wonder the Stormtrooper was suggesting a better chamber.

“Where am I?”

“In an escort shuttle, en route to Koboth,”

“What is it that you really want, Cal?”

He clicked his tongue, rolled his eyes to the side, and then grinned as he spoke.

“Oh, I think you and I both know that already.”

For every word he said, he took one step closer, “I want the Holocron.”

You smirked, even chuckled, in retaliation. You teased him, inching your face closer just so he’ll hear better.

“I don’t have it.”

The small yet sadistic smile that painted his face melted away. Part of him doesn’t want to believe you, and the other does. With your natural talent for theatrics, it’s hard to decipher you—even for him.

Your smug face and arrogant sniggering was beginning to bother him. So much so that he was starting to think you’re not playing around.

“You’re wasting your time and energy, you know,”

“Maybe I’m not making myself clear,” he sighed. He starts to remove his glove.

Preemptively, you know what he’s about to do to you. Your heart pounded in the wildest pace; suddenly, his Force-ability that once fascinated you, now terrifies you. Cal ignored your desperate scrambling in the contraption, but it somewhat satisfied him.

“That’s _my_ poncho,” he cooed and an evil smirked curled at the corner of his lip.

He reached for you, avoiding his touch is futile. His bare hand is now at a fingertip’s reach from the fabric, sinking away into the contraption wasn’t much help for you either. His grip clutched a portion in the middle—your shirt underneath it was caught in his hold as well—and sharp pangs of light jabbed his vision, a hollow rippling warm drummed in his ears.

_“Good night, Cal…”_

Your memories have ingrained into every thread, a vision plays out in his mind: he sees you snuggling up to the poncho in bed, keeping it close to your face as you slept, the nightly sobbing rung in his ears, and the warmth that the poncho gave you during cold, sleepless nights wrapped over his shoulders.

_“This isn’t who you are!”_

_“All this time… and we never even got a look.”_

That sudden shift of emotions startled him, but he kept his grip—physically and mentally. The Inquisitor wanted to extract as much as he can to exploit you. To him, it was a game; for you, it was a mental war. He witnessed your recent memories—he now knows that you opened the Holocron and took a glance of the contents, he heard the festival music from the town in Alyon, and then he saw the waves tugging away from the shoreline.

“You saw what’s inside the Holocron!” he exclaimed. He pushed further into you using his Psychometry. “What did you do with it?”

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!”

The boy Inquisitor was surprised to find that you’re able to fight him off—at least, his grip on your mind. When his influence is now absent in your body, your head hung low as you gasp for breath and fight off the throbbing pain in your head. His mischievous grin stretched from ear-to-ear.

“Interesting…”

He nestled your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting you upwards so you face him, your head bobbed slightly as you’re weakened by the infliction of his Psychometry. He inched closer to your face, the tips of your noses touched.

“My darling, you never cease to amaze me.” He teased you, the bottom of his lip softly brushed across yours while keeping an open grin, his stubble scratched your chin. Your indifferent expression met his roguish smirk as he pulled back inches away from you. A sadistic snicker hummed from his throat and he gently releases his hold on your face before leaving you in your cell.


	9. The Turn of the Tide

You afforded to regain your strength for the rest of the trip. The experience of being under the infliction of Cal’s Psychometry replayed over and over again in your body, certain sensations struck your nerves, the sharp pangs of the intrusive nature of his ability caused your heart to burst in between beats. The mental pain was so numbing and breathtaking, it was almost physical.

His words—the way he delivered them with his demanding tone—the expressions riddled with ulterior motives plastering his face flashed repeatedly before your eyes, and the way he looked at you was a confusing yet interesting medley of mercy and quiet sadism.

And yet, you still have the will to forgive him.

You lost track of how much time has passed since you were taken away from Alyon. While it would seem like you don’t have much time, your faith never wavered. However, you were also making peace with yourself should this be the day they bring you to the Dark Side or they die trying.

“Comfortable?” the Inquisitor declared during a visit in your cell.

“I’ve had better lodgings,” you blankly remarked. “Are you going to kill me when we arrive?”

“No,” he subtly shakes his head, you detect a twinge of mercy in his voice. “By the time you set foot in the fortress, you _will_ become an Inquisitor—more powerful than any Jedi or Inquisitor.”

“That’s a delusion they sell to you, and _you_ actually took the bait,”

Apparently, he refuses to be lectured, but you still kept going.

“A Jedi could never understand,” he concludes the exchange and leaves the cell.

The entire ship rumbled when its landing gears touched the hangar’s floor. Later, the Eleventh Brother comes into your cell alone to collect you. He unclips your lightsaber from your belt first before doing the restraints. He took a brief moment to gaze at you, before bending down to the floor. Your feet twitched when you felt his clutch around your leg. Surprisingly, he was gentle in dismantling the restraints around your ankles, and then he stood up to do the same around your wrists.

You rubbed away the chafe around your hands before the Eleventh Brother produced a set of cuffs and wore them on you.

“Of course, more restraints.” You blurted.

A humorless smile pursed his lips after hearing that comment. The both of you exited the cell and walked towards the entry ramp; the main door hissed as it unfolded and steam sputtered out of its hydraulics. The boy Inquisitor gingerly puts his hand on the small of your back—which made you flinch—and shepherded you out of the ship.

Both of you marched across the walkway into the fortress, flanked by the squad of Stormtroopers that accompanied him during your capture. It was a first for you to walk into the stronghold without having the need to infiltrate it. Your head tilted up, following the height of the fortress’s spire—it was mountainous in height as you walked. The hollow sound of metal clanging and lava bubbling were the noise in the background of this foreboding place.

An officer standing by the main entrance greeted them. The Inquisitor curtly acknowledged it, he turned to the Stormtroopers at the flank—ordering that only two of them to follow—and continued to escort you through the twists and turns inside. Eventually, the Inquisitor had brought you to the prison block—the layout was intricate, tiers upon tiers of cells arranged in orderly rows, it was like an insect hive except it housed prisoners for insidious purposes.

“Guards, I’ll take it from here,” the commanding, firm tone in his voice echoed in the sector. The Stormtroopers obliged and continued their patrolling in the block.

“In here,” the Inquisitor purred and nudged you to follow, his hand remained on your back.

The two of you disappeared into the elevator. Cal leaned against the wall at the back of the lift, arms crossed against one another, studying between the features inside the space and your side profile. The pungent musk of rainwater intruded the boy’s nostrils and memories briefly entered his mind—it was as if using Psychometry indirectly.

“Back at the beach, you said something,” you broke the silence.

“What is?” he responded nonchalantly, examining you from head to toe.

You turned around to face him, “That we always find our way back to each other. You said that in your recording too.”

“So, you’ve seen it,”

“I knew those words sounded familiar. That’s why I knew _my_ Cal is still there.”

His eyelids dropped as he hung his head low, denying you a response.

“You just don’t realize you have the strength to acknowledge it,” you said before turning back to face the door.

“Oh, I _do_ have the strength to acknowledge it,” he pushed himself away from the wall and towered next to you. “ _That_ Cal… is gone.”

His imposing stance didn’t intimidate you in the smallest bit; eyes of contrasting expressions loudly spoke with each other in the silent humming of the elevator.

“You once told me that we will always a choice. Are you sure this is yours?”

When you got no answer from that question, you return face to the door.

The elevator ceased to move, the floor beneath your feet briefly quaked, signaling your arrival to the designated floor. The door whizzed open, your breathing became shakier by the sight of the bridge leading to an apparent interrogation chamber.

Cal clutched your arm and led you out of the elevator with him. Your vision narrowed as you strode through the metal bridge. You have been keeping your cool since the trip, but now your shallow, rapid breathing betrayed the brave face you’ve put on. Stormtroopers stared at you when the two of you stopped by a checkpoint.

“Activate the bridge,” Cal commanded.

The Stormtrooper cranked a lever on his terminal and a bridge emerged to connect you to the chamber’s foyer.

“It’s ready, Eleventh Brother,” a Purge Trooper rifleman reported.

With a simple nod, every trooper stationed at the entrance of the chamber moved at the behest of the boy Inquisitor. The door rumbled at the push of a button and then it parted into four sides. Cal nudged you with his grip still around your arm, your feet dragged as he guided you up the set of stairs and into the actual chamber.

A trio of Stormtroopers and a pair of Purge Troopers followed into the chamber with you. A lone, silver contraption sat in the black midst, at its feet were the harsh crimson lights that colored the hydraulic steam that wafted about, and sparks flew out of the power cords that laced the walls. A uniformed officer was already inside the chamber preparing the terminal.

“It’s calibrated to the optimal setting, Eleventh Brother,”

“Good. Strap her in.”

Two Stormtroopers snatched you right up from Cal’s grasp and fixed you into the machine.

“Oh, wait.” Cal suddenly uttered and the Stormtroopers stopped in their tracks.

The Eleventh Brother lifted the back flap of your poncho and revealed BD-1 who has been hiding this whole time. For the first time ever, the little droid shied away from his second original owner.

“Don’t hurt him!” you barked.

“I won’t. Come on, BD,”

“If I find out you’re scrapping him for parts, I swear you’ll never hear the end of it!”

“Like that will ever happen,”

When the little droid isn’t budging, the young Inquisitor—with a sliver of compassion—handled BD by the head gently with his hand and unclamped the legs perched onto your jacket’s armor straps. As the droid was separated from you, his legs and antenna folded and then tucked his tiny body underneath his head; he was beeping in low, long tones—he was calling you for help, but he knew that he can’t break free from Cal’s grasp.

“I’m sorry, BD,”

“Wooo…!” the droid lowed as Cal’s finger found the switch.

“What are you doing!?” you glanced over your shoulder and watched Cal switch off BD, the little blue light in his scanner’s lens was fading away into the black glass. “BD-1!”

You saw the exact second where BD’s body went stiff as he was shut down. There wasn’t much you could do for him now. The Stormtroopers proceeded to bringing you to the contraption. Your steel restraints were replaced with cold, thick metal rings clasped around your wrists and ankles again as you lay your back flat against the contraption’s bed.

“Please, don’t hurt him!” you pleaded.

“No, he won’t get hurt…” Cal reassured, but suddenly a steely look pierced right at you. “But _you_ will.”

A Purge Trooper stepped towards Cal to relay a report.

“Sir, _he_ ’s arrived.”

“Good. In the meantime, shall we give her a taste?”

That was a rhetoric. The Inquisitor nodded at the terminal operator and he turned the knob to give you a mild shock. It was a weak jolt enough to make you flinch and Cal made sure the next one will be much worse than the last. The operator flicked the knob to the succeeding notch, he’ll push the button at the order of the boy Inquisitor.

Meanwhile, the Grand Inquisitor’s shuttle arrived from an assignment in Malachor. The gaunt, dark figure marched through the hallways of the stronghold—everyone in his path gave way and gestured either salutes or brief bows, and he returned them with indifferent side glances as he walked by.

“Grand Inquisitor, the Eleventh Brother has returned with the Jedi girl who infiltrated the fortress before,” a Purge Trooper reports.

“Oh? And of the Holocron?”

“Uh…”

There was no answer that followed that question. The Grand Inquisitor picked up the hint that the boy wasn’t able to accomplish his _true_ objective and instead followed his own. The Pau’an grumbled as he walked faster ahead of the Purge Trooper on the way to the specific interrogation chamber.

A distant echo of the elevator at the other side of the bridge signaled his arrival. The door whizzed and parted open, presenting the silhouette of the Grand Inquisitor. From your perspective, the figure was so tall that he covered the door frame from end to end. He stepped inside but remained within the shadows, a pair of amber eyes were the only things that stood out in the darkness.

“So, this is the ever-elusive Jedi. The crux of this wild goose chase,” the Grand Inquisitor hummed from where he stood.

You squint your eyes to make out his appearance: his eyebrows—or lack thereof—are in a perpetual furrow, two streaks tapered from his eyes and appeared like tears of blood staining his cheeks, and a piercing scowl from his golden eyes.

“Grand Inquisitor, I—”

Cal stepped closer to his mentor to report, he was caught off guard with the Grand Inquisitor struck the boy across his face with the back of his hand, the impact was snappy and you winced—as if feeling the sting of the slap on your own face. The Stormtroopers hid their reactions well behind their helmets, keeping their indifferent, emotionless demeanors.

“Foolish child!” the Grand Inquisitor roared, grabbing the boy by the collar of his uniform. “I tell you one thing expecting to have it done right. Have I not taught you common sense?! You replaced my one and only order with your own initiative!”

“Grand Inquisitor… I…” the boy gasped, “I can explain!”

“What then?!”

“She said she didn’t have it, but she’s opened the Holocron and saw its contents!”

“Are you absolutely sure?” the Pau’an growled, shaking the boy once more in his violent grasp.

“Yes!” Cal hissed, trying to match up to his master’s aggression.

The Grand Inquisitor’s features soften, he quickly shifted back to his calm demeanor. He carefully craned his neck towards the girl strapped to the silver machine.

“Hmm…” he grumbled.

He takes a second glance at the Eleventh Brother, his supposed protégé, and shoved the boy harshly to you.

“Make it as painful as you can. I know that is your specialty.” The Grand Inquisitor added.

The boy heeded his mentor’s request and took a deep breath. He pulled out his glove, a shaky hand closing in on you.

“Don’t…” you mouthed within his earshot, a noticeable teardrop twinkling at the edge of your eye.

He continued to bring his hand closer to you, his fingers brushed the threads of hair draping your sweat-covered forehead, and your cheek fitted just right in the center of his palm. You sensed that it pained him to do it—from the moment the Pau’an hit him on the face, you knew that he was acting out of fear in the guise of loyalty and obedience, it’s what the Grand Inquisitor wanted to establish in the first place.

The young Inquisitor focused hard, siphoning more thoughts and memories that he hasn’t fished out from the recesses of your subconscious. You shut your eyes as you fought him off in this mental tug-of-war. The more you backed away, the further he pushed on. It was more painful than it was the first time.

It felt like your brain bled as he sucked out whatever information he can take from you. The ripple of the dark side of the Force was hollow yet mind-numbing. You jerked and thrashed your head left and right, shaking off his influence but it found itself firmly clutching onto you—there seemed to be no escape.

“Cal… don’t…!” you began to screech in pain, he shushed you continuously, pressing his palm against your cheek further.

In your mind, he found that you’re building up a wall that he is constantly trying to break. You were denying him a glimpse of your mind but it was so exhausting, should you slip up in the slightest bit, then all of your efforts would be for naught.

“Don’t fight...” he whispered as he continued inflicting his Psychometry.

“I won’t let you…” you grunted.

It was a test of mental willpower. The desperate, young protégé pushed on, climbing on a wall that only seemed to get higher and higher; you were fighting back in your own way—subtle yet impactful, calm yet strong—and a voice kept speaking to you, although it uttered the very same words.

_Guide those who are lost, the same way the Force guides you. Be their light when they can’t find any._

Instead of giving the boy Inquisitor what he wanted.

You gave him what he _needed._

“Cal…” your lips barely moved, but he heard his name in that thin wisp of air that escaped your mouth. You slowly lifted your eyelids, his steely stare has softened into a tender, child-like gaze. “Find the light.”

For once, he felt the warmth that he yearned secretly—in the solace of his bedroom, in his lonesome amongst the Inquisitors, and even in his dreams—you gave him the one thing that he was deprived of all this time and couldn’t give it to himself.

Finally, you allowed him to steal a glimpse of what you have been holding in your mind. You tore down your walls and let him in. What he found were not answers—they were feelings and emotions, ones that he probably hasn’t felt a long while.


	10. Return of the Jedi

Not only did Cal feel the emotions that you allowed him to feel again, you showed him the memories that truly mattered. He was seeing everything in your point of view.

He saw himself—his old self—leaning against the broken wall of the Vault’s outer enclave, staring at the sunset upon Bogano. It was as if he was reliving the memory of his past self—he felt your hand slipping into his, in return, you clutch it back as both of you peered at the suns sinking behind the mesa.

However, your vulnerability allowed him to intrude beyond that line. He found you inside a house that he’s never seen before and he caught a glimpse of the Holocron being hidden away in a box by a pair of hands; before the slip-up could get any worse and expose Obi-Wan with the Holocron, you pushed him out and erected the same wall.

The vision ended and he jerked his hand away at the abrupt jab of light, a deep buzzing sound cracked in his ears as he shifted back into reality. The Grand Inquisitor saw how the Eleventh Brother appear disoriented—surely, he must have gotten some results.

“Well?!”

“I… I saw it… it was being kept away someplace.”

“Where is it? Where is that place?!”

“I… I don’t know…” the boy shuddered.

As he stepped into the light, it terrified you more when he got closer to you. Your lip shivered in fear, goosebumps pelted your skin, and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. The Grand Inquisitor shoved Cal away and stood eye-to-eye with you.

“I see,” he purred. Then through his jagged, pointed teeth, he hissed. “With the Holocron nowhere to be found, yet the boy claims that you’ve seen its contents, perhaps not all is lost after all.”

“I can see that your overconfidence is your best asset,” you spat.

“Charming,” a sarcastic smile crawled about his lip pale, ivory lips. With a flicking gesture of his fingers, the operator pushed the button and the shock was so sharp that your spine arched against the bed. “You will either tell us what we want to know or you die in this very contraption.”

“Maybe I’ll go with… PISS OFF!”

“Very well,” he sighed, sarcastically rolling his eyes. He abruptly turned to the operator and barked. “Set the voltage level to five!”

Another notch turned, followed by the press of a button. The two conduits hummed as it closed in on your body. As the cold, metal pads pressed against the flesh below your collarbone, the only thing you’re able to do is suck in a huge dollop of air and release a gut-wrenching scream so loud that your throat has gotten dry from all the crying. Your body jerked in response to the high voltage—your knees buckled, your wrist pivoted underneath the cuffs, and the agonizing throes of your body to all sides rattled the machine itself.

The Grand Inquisitor threw his fist in the mid-air, signaling the operator to pause, and interrogated you again. There was a sinister glint in his eyes at the instance of an afterthought.

“You know, there is another proposition that may perhaps be of great benefit for either party,” he sniggered. He didn’t await a reply from you, and so he continued. “Join our ranks, I’ll let you live and you will be of better use to me, far better than that traitorous Jedi, Cere Junda.”

“You don’t know Cere! She is a far better warrior than you could ever be!”

“Such misplaced faith, such misguided strength,” he subtly turned to Cal. “Now, I see why he was so eager to take you in because he told me you’d prove me of something—and I’m beginning to see it just now.”

You glanced over the taller Inquisitor’s shoulder to find Cal, he stood there, his eyes avoided you in the brief second that your gazes met.

“I’m impressed that the Eighth Sister spoke highly of you,” the Pau’an added. “As matter of fact, it’s a first for her! She never really liked competition.”

“Send her my regards then,” you spat.

“So, [y/n], what will it be? Die a ‘noble’ death here or see the true magnitude of your power—something that the Jedi nor your Master was ever able to unravel for you!”

Another shock. Your body is gradually growing numb from the electricity coursing throughout your body, your muscles are now suffering from spasms, your heart rate is three levels above normal—any more and it would get touch the critical level—and your breathing labored as you endure the pain.

“That high pain threshold is quite impressive. Not many can live beyond six,” he sniggered. “Notch the setting to seven!”

“No… NO!!!”

As the level of the shock increases, it went from mild to excruciating. Your muscles sprained due to your thrashing, you could feel your nerves burning at the intensity, every limb in your body jerked and curled at the mercy of the voltage.

“Well, he was right about one thing. You _are_ strong, indeed. I am only keeping you alive because he told me that you can be of use to me.

“CAL… PLEASE!!” you cried out, throwing your head back to release an ear-shattering, painful scream.

The sensation was similar to being burned alive, except this one packed a bigger punch—since electricity consumes the body slower than fire, therefore it causes the victim to suffer for longer while still being partially-alive depending on their pain tolerance.

“What’s it going to be, child?!”

“I am a Jedi…! You can never break me!”

“I often find heroics quite dull,”

The indigo cracks of voltage danced before your eyes, your vision has blurred and you could only make out the colors and the silhouettes of those in the chamber. Cal shirked farther back in the room, he was slowly dissolving into the shadows from your perspective, and your cries of pain mixing with the call of his name were agonizing and stomach-churning.

He averted his eyes, even shut them tight with his hands tucked behind his back, and struggled to ignore your cries for help.

“CAL… HELP ME…!!”

Involuntarily and suddenly, a memory that the two of you shared played before his eyes. He saw you clinging on the edge of a cliff after a Nydak destroyed the stone pillar you used as a stepping stone. Your fingers were digging into the muck but you were slipping away.

_“Cal, help me!”_

_“I got you! Don’t worry, baby… I got you!”_

The memory of him running to you, grabbing you on both arms to pull you back up. He catches you in his arms in the final tug and cradled you.

An energy he has been unknowingly piling up was almost too much for him to contain. This energy rooted from all kinds of emotions—hate, pain, and anger.

“No…” he mouthed, his eyelids relaxing but keeping closed.

“HELP ME…!”

The Grand Inquisitor has sensed it, but reacted too late. Cal released perhaps the strongest wave of energy, inflicting Mass Push and Empowered Slow in quick succession on _everybody_ in the room except for you, he switched on BD-1 using the Force and ran to you. While the little droid took a minute to reboot his entire system, Cal unbuckled the restraints as quickly as he can. Your body, limp and exhausted from enduring all that pain, fell away from the machine.

“I got you …!” Cal gasped as he caught you.

“Cal…?” you struggled to open your eyes, a blurry image of his face filled your sight.

“Don’t worry, baby, I got you…! Can you stand?”

You didn’t answer, you struggled to stand and Cal supported you by wrapping your arm around his shoulder. Both of you hobbled away from the machine and to the door. Apparently, the effect of Cal’s abilities against the Grand Inquisitor wore off sooner than the rest.

“YOU WEAK, INSOLENT COWARD!” The Grand Inquisitor bellowed while trying to break free, you and Cal were taken by surprise when you saw the Pau’an flexing and stretching his neck and shoulders.

Knowing he had to think fast, he used the Force to pull your lightsaber resting on the control terminal and handed it over to you; he also found that BD-1’s back to full function.

“BD-1, come on!”

When the little droid saw that Cal was helping you, he made a quick, cheerful chirp and flew towards the both of you with his turbojets and perched onto Cal’s shoulder.

“Yeah, buddy, I got you!” he patted the little droid’s head and it chirped in response.

BD-1 voluntarily popped out a stim for you, which Cal caught in the air and injected right into you, hoping that the substance would help you recover enough strength to fight.

“Here,” Cal hands over your lightsaber. “Can you fight?”

A smirk curled at the corner of your mouth as you turned to face him and the both of you traded nods—an unspoken conversation that only you and Cal know the words to.

Your lightsabers ignited and hummed in unison, the both of you positioned into a defensive-offensive stance. It was two against one, though the Grand Inquisitor appeared to be unfazed by the odds. Both parties lunged at one another, the Pau’an deflected both sabers on each side and despite your combined strength, he didn’t back down—rather, he shifted all his weight against the two of you, and the dark warrior loomed over the two young Jedi.

For every jab either of you have for him, he always had a way to parry it. His skill was commendable, but it was also irritating and frustrating.

“Your skills pale against mine! I am more powerful than any Jedi combined!”

“Does he always gab this much when fighting?” you remarked. “It’s annoying, really.”

Cal smiled to himself. He almost hate to admit he missed your sarcasm.

“YOUR BLIND FAITH OF A FALLEN ORDER SHALL BE YOUR DOWNFALL!” The Grand Inquisitor snarled, in addition, he produced his ignited lightsaber in retaliation. The halo that encircled the hilt started spinning in a dramatic speed.

This time, it was the Grand Inquisitor who was in the offensive. He was more adept in using the aggressive, acrobatic forms—you detected a mix of Forms IV and VII, Ataru and Vaapad respectively—and he always managed to keep up with your next attacks, it’s as if he’s foreseen it before you could even make the move. The only thing you had against the Grand Inquisitor is your numbers; if you could overwhelm the Inquisitor with alternating attacks between you and Cal, it would confuse him and lose his focus—even for just a minute or a second, it counts.

You were on the defensive side of the duel; meanwhile, Cal sent a flurry of attacks in the Grand Inquisitor’s way—he attacked with a medley of fast-paced flourishes and spins, at the end of his figure-eight spin he stopped with a backhand that acted as a deflect against the Inquisitor’s overhead strike.

“[Y/N]!!” He simply called.

Cal made sure there was enough space between him and the enemy, he also timed in dropping his lightsaber to the most precise split second, enough for you to slide into the space between them and catching the falling saber altogether—when the black hilt fell into your grasp, the slightest turn of the wrist pointed this blade against the Grand Inquisitor and you slashed him across the shins.

“Agh!” the Grand Inquisitor exclaimed as the saber seared through his greaves.

You couldn’t help the feeling but celebrate in-battle—it was a bad habit, whenever you know you have taken the upper hand that is when you start partying inside your mind while still flinging a lightsaber at the enemy.

He fell to the floor, on his knees, but he was still able to deflect your overhead strike. He stood upright again in the small window of a second after he fell to the ground and was back in action. He focused more on Cal, hell-bent on destroying his former protégé who turned tail at the last minute. Crimson blades torched the darkness and the collision produced a fountain of sparks. The Grand Inquisitor did a cheap shot and jabbed Cal in the jaw with his able, the boy stumbled and it was the Pau’an’s chance to strike—but you quickly deprived him that when you directed your Force-Halt on him.

The Grand Inquisitor remained cemented, with his body still as a statue, and you ran up to him with a downward slash followed by the hardest kick your leg could muster. The impact of his fall was so hard that the gray little discs attached to his ears fell off, all of a sudden, a hybrid of high-pitched white noise and a deep, low buzzing entered his eardrums and nauseated him. The two of you backed away as you watched the Pau’an writhe on the floor with his hands padding his ears, your eyes searched for the gray ear discs and kicked it to the farthest side of the chamber.

“Come on, we gotta get out of here!” you cried.

The two of you made a run for it, Cal destroyed the control panel and the door froze in a partially-opened state. Vaulting through the sizable gap that the door left, the next gauntlet was getting past the bridge. A Stormtrooper punched the alarm before joining the fray, you and Cal easily cut through the numbers and sped across the bridge until you’ve reached the other side.

“[y/n], help me with this!”

Both of you tore the bridge apart by severing its connection until it was fully dismembered from the main platform. The bridge groaned as it became a slope upon its collapse, bringing down the Stormtroopers with it. Cal led you to the elevator and searched for the right button in the middle of a panic, he crunched a button of that eventually led you to a series of corridors.

“Cal, where are you taking us!?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Just now, actually!”

“Then follow my lead!”

For every one out of three turns in a hallway, you are met with a patrol of Stormtroopers who are now vigilant due to the high alert that’s been set off.

“Wait, there they are!”

Cal fished out a thermal detonator from his utility belt and tossed it right into the spot filled with Stormtroopers and then used the Force to shut the door until the bomb went off. A muffled explosion quaked the corridors and the siren howled in a continuous tone. With Cal on the lead, you covered the flank, cutting the path between yourselves and the units of Stormtroopers on your trail.

Your running speed has noticeably slowed down, you could barely keep up with Cal and looking over your shoulder to check if there are enemies behind you.

 _Come on, [y/n], come on!_ You coaxed yourself mentally. The exhaustion was eating away at your body for every step you take.

Along the way, you and Cal alternately destroyed the control panels of the doors that you’ve passed by, further cutting off the Stormtroopers chasing you.

“Here, [y/n], here!”

You come across a control room, but you emptied it of Stormtroopers and a single Imperial security droid. Cal approached and peered through the wide windows.

“There’s the hangar!” Cal pointed. “I think we can hijack a shuttle there and get the hell out of—!”

He turned around, his smile that was filled with the hope of a successful escape melted the moment he saw you fumbling to the ground and clutching your torso.

“[y/n], are you okay?” he ran up to you and caught you once again in his arms.

You didn’t tell Cal, but the successive exhaustion of being tortured via electrocution, being caught in combat, and now in the middle of a hot pursuit during a breakout has taken its toll on your body.

“Cal…” you fought between speaking and breathing, managing a tender cooing tone. “My baby… save yourself…”

“No, I’m not leaving you! Not when we’re so close!”

The response he received from you is your labored breathing, struggling to hold on for dear life.

A violent tremor shook the entire structure, the bridge must have totally gone down and damaged the lower levels. Subsequently, the destruction would cascade down to the fortress’s core; if you’re not quick enough, you might as well go down with the building.

“Come on, up you go!”

Cal scooped you up in his arms and sprinted through the hallway that leads to the shuttle hangar. He gently put you down behind some crates and fought off the guards blocking his way to the ship.

“There’s the traitor, stop him!”

A team of Stormtroopers led by a Purge Trooper rifleman blasted away at Cal, the barrage overwhelmed him and he didn’t exactly have Cere and her Force field to shield him from the hail of bullets. He banked the bullets back to their senders but a gunner from the upper platform sniped at his lightsaber with a charged shot—supposedly his head but his hand slipped.

The destroyed lightsaber clattered next to your feet and Cal slipped to the covers with you. You ripped open a concealed section on the right leg of your cargo pants and fished something out of it.

It was Cal’s lightsaber.

“You idiots didn’t search me,” you lightly thumped his head with the emitter as you sniggered.

He held your face and pulled you in for a kiss—it was abrupt, but you could feel the press of his lips against yours.

“I’m glad we didn’t!”

He ignited his true lightsaber, the radiant beam shone over the gloss of his eyes, and a grin stretched from ear-to-ear.

Now back in action, Cal banked the next shot at the sniper; vaulting over the crates, he carved a path to the group of Stormtroopers who were backing away in fear of the one-man army. He took down the leader Purge Trooper and then pulled all of his enemies around him, the lightsaber flew in a fan-like motion, tearing down the Stormtroopers in a single sweep. He returned to you behind the crates and found you unconscious, he checked for a pulse—there was, but it was weak.

“Come on, sweetie, up we go!”

He scooped you again bridal-style and slammed the door button open. Upon entering, he headed for the lounge and laid you down on the couch, kissed your forehead and then darted to the cockpit. BD-1 hopped over on the dashboard and watched Cal work his magic on the ship—a crank of the main power lever that wired the ship to life, and then lightning-fast pace of typing the coordinates and prepping the ship for hyperspace both at the same time. BD-1 noticed another team of Stormtroopers flooding the hangar and shooting the ship, he alerted Cal in a string of frenzied trills.

“I know, BD, I see them!”

He turned the analog stick of the guns in the direction of the Stormtroopers and sent them flying in a single blast. Not wasting a moment’s notice, Cal hovered the ship and made the jump to lightspeed as soon as he got enough altitude from the crumbling fortress.

“Boo, woop?”

“It’s okay now, BD. We’re going home.”

Cal caressed little BD’s head, profusely apologizing to what he did to his first friend and even touched the little droid’s flat, rectangular head with his forehead.


	11. Where the Heart Is - Epilogue

The hum of a large fan woke you up, soft sheets smoothly stroked your skin, and a palette of lights danced in your puffy eyes. Your body felt like there was a weight bearing over it; when your vision has finally adjusted, your eyes surveyed the room and knew _this_ exact room. You lifted your head and found BD-1 standing at the foot of the bed.

“BD?”

The distracted droid turned its attention to you and beeped what seemed to be “Good morning” in translation.

_Good morning?_

_Wait, I’m in bed?_

Standing up abruptly made your body sore, you winced and saw that bacta healing strips were plastered on the areas where the interrogation machine pads generated the shocks. You’re dressed to just your pants and tank top, your jacket sat folded on the trunk at the end of the bed. You searched the room again—it was only you and BD. Exactly the same way how your journey started—except the bruises and the bandages, of course.

You head upstairs leading outside and you’re greeted by the twin suns adorning the morning sky as they rose.

“Bogano…” you gasped, blinking repeatedly just to see that you’re not dreaming or perhaps dead. “I’m back in Bogano?”

Looking to the east—where the Boggdo sinkholes are—the silhouette of a black shuttle stuck out like a sore thumb. You searched for the Mantis, it was there sitting in the spot where it usually land, its dorsal fin stuck out and reflected the sunlight. You looked straight ahead, to the Vault in your north, and then at the corner of your eye, you spot Cal standing in the middle of the mesa with his back turned, gazing at the horizon.

You cautiously approached him but stopped at a considerable distance. He had shed the black Inquisitor armor, in exchange, he sported a modest, black, wool sweater and pants. He sensed your presence and turned around to greet you.

His smile was the first thing you saw in the Bogano dawn.

“[y/n]…” he uttered. He was in a state of surprise seeing you out of bed and got him tongue-tied, thus unsure what to say next.

You felt your heart skip a beat but in the best way possible. You didn’t say a word either, though not realizing yourself, your legs carried you sprinting towards him. You threw yourself in his arms which he so welcomingly returned. He felt a massive burden depart his chest when he felt your body pressing against his; you buried your face in the crook of his bicep and your grip crumpled the back of shirt, feeling for him to know if he was real of just an illusion.

Cal is definitely real. You’re not dreaming.

He stroked the length of your hair down and nuzzled his cheek over your head.

He didn’t say anything, which was exactly what he needed to do. He made the most out of your embrace that he longed for a painfully long time.

“You’re home…” your voice shuddered, nearly choking on tears.

“No, stardust…” he gingerly withdrew and cradled your face with his bare hands. “ _We’re_ home.”

A supposed laugh became a relieved huff through your mouth. You were just too elated that this is all happening. You caressed back his face, your thumb felt for the roughness of his stubble and then combed the drooping locks of hair hanging in front of his forehead.

You gazed into his clear eyes whose green irises mingled with the golden hue of the waking sun. Your heart leapt in joy upon your epiphany.

 _It IS you! My Cal… my sweet Cal._ You declared in your mind, though you were certain Cal could have heard that.

Standing on the tips of your toes, you wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled him in for a kiss. His hand took up the space beyond your neck to caress you that his fingers raked the bottom layer of your hair; his hands trailed to the small of your waist until he wrapped them around you, in between kisses you could feel his smile and then the playful dip of his tongue into your mouth.

The morning breeze blew in Bogano as the suns rise from behind the cliffs of yonder.

Cal held you ever so close to him, embracing you in the tightest hug he could envelop you in, both of you spectated the breaking dawn until the sunlight blankets the mesas—touching every single thing in its wake and bathing you in its warmth. You smile to yourself and relished the warmth of Cal’s embrace.

Home.

_**THE END.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAHHH IT'S FINALLY DONE!! ;;A;; Thank you so much to everyone who’s been sending love for this fic (as well as its prequel) and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it down to the last period! You guys have been so kind and awesome in the comments section <3


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